


'Til Death Do Us Part

by JLovesBats



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: Amnesia, Anger, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Arkham Asylum, Blood, Car Accidents, Choking, Death, Delusions, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Reader, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gotham, Guns, Hallucinations, Head Injury, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Injury Recovery, Insomnia, Jealousy, Light BDSM, Major Character Injury, Medication, Memory Loss, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Rage, Rough Sex, Self-Harm, Sex, Smut, Therapy, Violence, Weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 57,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21694147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JLovesBats/pseuds/JLovesBats
Summary: You have been married to Arthur for some time, experiencing his change, while he became the Joker. After the events of the Murray Franklin show, Arthur has been admitted to Arkham State Hospital and you suddenly became involved in a car crash, the resulting injuries causing you to experience complete Amnesia, not remembering your name, your marriage or anything else from your previous life. Arthur's therapist and the police decided to hide the truth, erasing every trace of Arthur from your life, while he was told you had left him. Not accepting the situation, Arthur fights to get you back.
Relationships: Arthur Fleck/Female Reader
Comments: 29
Kudos: 165





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt by: Sagyunaro on Tumblr  
> https://sagyunaro.tumblr.com/post/188879565007/prompt-for-anyone-wishing-to-write-it
> 
> Find this fic on my Tumblr Blog: JLovesBats  
> https://jaylovesbats.tumblr.com/post/189484815566/chapter-9-so-i-was-met-by-the-realization-i

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur had been in Arkham for two months, with you visiting him regularly. Things were starting to look suspicious, as you notice certain behaviors of the Arkham staff and Arthur himself. You get into an accident and Arthur is left to wonder about where you have been.

*** // READER’S POV // ***

Arthur had been in the Arkham State Hospital for the past two months. Once or twice a week you were allowed to visit him in the hospital. On every other day you called him in the evenings, allowed to talk to him for fifteen minutes at a time. It wasn’t enough.

You just came back from seeing him and he didn’t look well. You noticed Arthur had lost even more weight these past two months and on your visits, he seemed horribly drowsy and besides himself.

You knew what they were doing. They were drugging him up, keeping him manageable. You were seething, nobody had the right to do that to your husband and you had to do something.

You were on your way back home, thinking about the conversation with Arthur’s therapist you’ve had at the beginning of the week. She had invited you for another appointment, already having talked to you twice, since he got locked up after the riots.

She kept telling you, that she didn’t think it was a good idea, that you two kept seeing each other, the contact obviously interfering with his therapy progress. Also she continued to ask, what your reason for staying with him was.

You loved him. You knew who he was and what he had done. And you understood. Arthur was your everything. He gave you so much. And nobody would keep you from staying with your husband, that was for sure. No matter how hard they tried.

That’s how you noticed, that things seemed more fishy at Arkham every day.

Today you saw that he was sporting injuries he didn’t have, when you last visited him. His knuckles were cut open and he had a wound on his forehead. His therapist told you, that those were self-inflicted injuries, stemming from anger outbursts or self-harming behavior. You didn’t believe her.

Arthur didn’t talk about any of it, no matter how persistent you were in questioning him. He tended to change the topic, usually focusing on what you were doing, asking you to tell him, what was happening outside.

You weren’t allowed to touch each other during those visits, Arthur being in handcuffs, chains linked to the table and a ward standing in the room with you. Of course he wouldn’t talk about anything substantial, being watched like that. You had the feeling, Arthur knew very well they were spying on anything the both of you said, so no way in changing that. Knowing him, he was probably also trying not to make you worry.

You chose to take the way home going along the main street, trying desperately to think of a possibility to get him out of there. Maybe you should try talking to the head of the hospital, although you were pretty sure he must have known what was going on, Arthur being their most notorious patient so far.

God, this was frustrating.

It was already getting dark outside and you decided to pick up your pace, not willing to experience Gotham’s nightlife first hand.

The streets were full of people in this part of the city, but as soon as it got dark, they scattered like rats, hiding in their homes and leaving behind only the filthiest and gruesome examples of mankind, going on about their suspicious lifestyle and shady business.

You had to cross the street to take the next left turn.

Suddenly you heard the screeching of car tires and gun shots, police sirens in the background, coming closer.

You were standing there on the sidewalk, startled by the noises, when a rundown car took a sharp turn coming out of a street nearby, shooting into the masses of people on the sidewalk. People were screaming and running, but it all happened so fast, you froze and couldn’t move.

The last thing you saw was the car of the shooter, loosing control, approaching another smaller car in high speed, crashing together with the shrill sound of bending metal and breaking glass.

Both cars were sliding towards you faster than you could process, then everything went dark.

*** // THERAPIST’S POV // ***

You were a pain in the ass. The Joker’s wife.

'Who in the world would want to be married to a person like that?’, Arthur’s therapist mumbled to herself.

No matter why you kept coming back, it was testing her patience. She had other plans on what to do with a complex case like Joker and your effect on him was ruining any effort she gave it.

She couldn’t get anything out of him, no matter how she approached him, all he did was sitting there, laughing to himself, telling her morbid jokes. Never talking about you or his private life or the incident with Murray Franklin.

Instead he started getting into trouble with the guards, them just being the usual assholes in uniforms and probably making fun of him.

The resulting injuries of those fights weren’t too unusual among the patients, so in front of others she could brush it off as self-inflicted. She had to keep his conflicts with the guards in check so nobody notices, or else she’d get into a whole lot of trouble.

Maybe she should increase the dosage of meds prescribed to him yet again, so he would back down and not fight back. He was already taking an awful ammount and he was still dangerous, being provocative and sassy.

He was too self-assured, with his wife contacting him daily, through visits and calls. Maybe he would crack, if she somehow managed to reduce his contact to you.

She tried cutting the visits in half, but that didn’t work, because even with cases like him, the hospital rules had to be kept in check, or else she could lose her job in case you or Arthur were complaining about it to your boss.

She had to think of something, fast. Or someone else would be assigned on his case, because she was not making any progress.

*** // ARTHUR’S POV // ***

It has been two weeks since you last visited. Nobody knew anything about why you haven’t called, he asked his therapist several times, but she seemed surprised as well. She said, she tried calling you every day since, but you weren’t picking up the phone. He thought that she probably lied to him about that anyways.

He was going crazy in here, not having really talked to anybody for the past weeks. He didn’t want to admit, but this place was bothering him and talking to you kind of kept him centered.

Now there are just heavily disordered patients, greedy doctors and nurses, all of them trying to get though to him, making him reveal something meaningful.

He noticed, that they tried separating the both of you. His therapist kept mentioning, that your visits were hindering his progress and also he overheard a conversation the guards had on the hallway, wondering for how long you were going to continue visiting him, although you got nothing out of it.

That wasn’t true.

You loved him and he loved you.

That’s everything that mattered and your connection went deeper than just the usual marriage other people tended to have. You knew him like nobody else did. You accepted everything he did and even expressed, how you related to his view of the world.

You two weren’t only husband and wife, but also partner’s in crime. No matter how much he tried to shield you from getting too deep into it, you read him like a book and always managed to make him change his mind. You wanted to be by his side, no matter the stuff he got himself into.

And he was grateful for it.

He started to feel dizzy and nauseous again. He knew it was the medication, they gave him. Nothing he hadn’t handled before, having taken medication for at least the past ten years. Side effects were annoying, but manageable. Although the drugs they gave him here, really were on a whole different level.

Laying back down on the cot in his cell, sighing, staring at the ceiling, his mind traveled back in time, to the day he shot Randall in his apartment…

*

_A few days before, he had told you that he got invited to the Murray Franklin Show that day and you came to visit him as a surprise._

_When he got out of the shower, having cleaned his body of Randall’s blood, you just stood there in the entrance, the door closed behind you, not even having taken one step into the hallway. Staring at what was left of Randall._

_He almost panicked, thinking that this was it. Nervous giggling started to bubble up in his chest and he had to concentrate real hard to supress it. This was the moment you’d run screaming. For sure._

_But you didn’t. You turned your head to look at him, a little pale, but composed, cleared your throat and said_

_'Well. At least now there won’t be an argument about where we’re gonna live. You’re gonna move in with me, those blood stains won’t ever come out again.’_

_He was stunned by your reaction and laughed in surprise and disbelief about the ridiculousness of the situation._

_'Whatever you say, Sweety. If I had known, you wanted to come over, I wouldn’t have made such a mess’, he chuckled, then asked about what you brought with you in the little paper bag you carried along._

_'Oh, I got you some new face paint and hair dyeing utensils’, you explained, while he remembered having talked to you about what look he wanted to wear on the show._

_'You told me you wanted to dye your hair green and I figured you probably wouldn’t know, you had to bleach them beforehand, to make the color pop. As I see, I was right about that’, she said smiling smugly, looking at the green and brown mess his hair was._

_He stared at you speechlessly and sighed._

_'You’re an angel. Honest to God, I’d be a mess without you’, he said, walking over to you, peppering your forehead with little kisses, moving an arm around your waist._

_'You’re always a mess and I love that about you. And don’t you dare pull something like that in my apartment, or else you can scrub the floor with a toothbrush. Now c'mon, lets get you ready, darling’, you said, pulling him along, slowing down as you were trying to avoid stepping into any of the blood on the floor (which was practically impossible), and it made you look so funny and cute, as if you were putting on a little dance._

_Starting to laugh, he scooped you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style into the living room, the both of you getting to work on his hair and makeup._

*


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up from your coma. Arthur’s therapist and your social worker settling on what to do with the both of you. You try to figure out, how to deal with the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by: Sagyunaro on Tumblr  
> https://sagyunaro.tumblr.com/post/188879565007/prompt-for-anyone-wishing-to-write-it
> 
> Find this fic on my Tumblr Blog: JLovesBats  
> https://jaylovesbats.tumblr.com/post/189484815566/chapter-9-so-i-was-met-by-the-realization-i

*** // SOCIAL WORKER’S POV // ***

She had been contacted by the police, which she worked in collaboration with frequently, offering her a new case to take care of. They were informing her about a woman having gotten into a car accident and having gone into coma as a result, sporting a major head injury.

Not just any woman though. They suspected you were the wife of Arthur Fleck. The Joker. This was big.

Everybody knew who Arthur was after the 'Franklin Incident’, as the media portrayed it. But there hasn’t been a whole lot of evidence to identify you, the both of you obviously having been very careful about revealing your identity to anybody.

The leak leading to the identification was a neighbor of Fleck, living on the same floor in his old apartment complex. Back when the police raided the place, they questioned each and every person living there, asking for information on the case, but nobody knew anything, like Arthur hadn’t even really existed.

Said neighbor, named Sophie, was reluctant to talk at first, obviously having been scared by the revelation of her neighbor being the Joker. After some pressuring though, she told the officers everything she knew, which wasn’t all that much.

But she could vividly remember him being accompanied by a woman occasionally, giving a detailed description of you and mentioning that the two of you were obviously married, which she noticed by chance, riding the elevator with you and spotting the matching rings.

So when the ambulance admitted you to the hospital, the doctor’s immediately informed the police about a woman fitting the Joker’s wife’s description having been found. The police inspected your belongings and found the ring you wore, which was taken off for x-ray scans, and found Arthur’s and your name engraved on the inside.

Taking on your case would be complicated. But she really loved her job as a social worker and if there was one thing she knew, it was that you of all people needed help dearly, being married to a killer clown.

Next thing to do was the appointment with Fleck’s therapist at Arkham State Hospital to properly assess the situation and plan on what to do next. Priority for Arkham was obviously curing the Joker or at least solving the mystery of the man himself, if recovery wasn’t possible.

Her priority was the wife though, for her that was a decision made by heart. She would help you recover from the likely traumatic relationship, getting closure and helping you getting back on your feet.

*** // THERAPIST’S POV // ***

Arthur’s symptoms had been getting worse, he had become a lot more violent and erratic, now hurting himself for real, probably out of frustration and loneliness. He had stopped talking to her all together by now and she felt like it was only mere days until his case was taken from her.

Just as she felt like being stuck in a room with no doors, suddenly an exit presented itself, in the form of a police phone call.

She had been informed about the situation a few days ago and just this morning, she received a message about you having woken up from your coma, suffering from a bad case of amnesia due to head trauma. Not even remembering as much as your name.

This was perfect. If she handled it right, this was the solution for her problem, getting rid of you altogether. A plan already forming in her head.

She immediately instructed the police to investigate your old apartment, removing anything that had to do with Arthur.

Then she told the hospital staff to keep your personal belongings away and not tell you anything that would reveal something about your past, identity or Arthur. The best way to go about it was them telling you, you didn’t have any belongings with you.

She tried reasoning with the responsible doctor, that the situation needed to be handled like this to grant the both of you a chance of recovery, which he supported.

The appointment with your social worker, Mrs Parker, went better than expected, her being all in when she heard about Arthur’s state and her suspicion of you interfering with his therapy. She could tell that Mrs Parker was pitying you, you obviously had lost any sense of self-preservation, having fallen too hard for the clown. She wanted to genuinely help you. It suited her purpose just right, as long as that social worker kept sticking to the plan while 'helping’ you.

The only thing left to do was finding the right words to tell Arthur. She thought of a lot of possibilities. You could have died. But as a married man he had any right on demanding legal evidence of your death and she just couldn’t provide that without pulling too much attention.

Compared to faking your death a breakup seemed much more practical. She would tell him, that she was sorry, but that you eventually left, saying you couldn’t do this anymore.

You could pull it off as a necessary lie for the well being of both of you, having a reasoning rooted in therapy progress. If it was uncovered, at least she wouldn’t necessarily lose her job or even go to prison.

So, the plan was solid and she knew what she had to do.

*** // READER’S POV // ***

Waking up was terrible. You would bet you had never been in such tremendous physical pain before, but you couldn’t remember anything. Not one single fucking thing. The doctor’s already told you, when you couldn’t even tell them your name, that you were probably suffering from amnesia caused by your head injury. You had no idea how this could have happened, they told you, they haven’t even found a wallet on you.

Everytime you tried remembering what happened, the pain in your head became unbearable and you felt dizziness creeping up on you. They told you, the pain would get better in time, but not being sure if your memory could be recovered completely or even partly.

With traumatic events temporary amnesia tends to happen, but yours was caused by damage to the brain and that could be a delicate thing to handle. It was all about luck.

You woke up two days ago, most of the time spent half-asleep, high on pain medication. Now that you could move and talk, the nurses informed you of a social worker wanting to talk to you about your situation.

She arrived on time, right after breakfast and you were currently drinking your second cup of coffee. You didn’t remember, but you must have loved coffee, before the accident. You couldn’t know for sure of course, but the smell was really pleasant and eased your anxiety about the whole situation a little.

Coming in, you took a good look at her. You estimated her to be in her mid forties and she had a kind and gentle smile, looking professional, wearing a white dress shirt, a black skirt and a long black coat, elegant glasses decorating her face.

'Good Morning, Miss! My name is Eleanor Parker, I’m your assigned social worker. Nice to meet you’, she said, holding out her hand to shake yours formally.

She wore a golden wedding ring on her left hand and somehow you experienced a little internal jolt, like you had forgotten something important, you wanted to do.

Pulling yourself together, you shook her hand weakly, still not being able to move that much without hissing in pain. Your whole body was covered in countless bruises and moving was still a risky thing to attempt.

'Hello, Mrs Parker. I would love to introduce myself, but I fear I can’t’, you said with a frail sarcastic voice, as she sat down in a chair beside your bed.

'Oh, I know, I heard about it from the doctors already. Poor thing. It must be hard for you right now.’

You didn’t like where this was going. Obviously you didn’t like being pitied. She was probably just trying to be compassionate and friendly, so you brushed it off.

'I’m doing okay, as far as I can say’, you answered politely, sporting a little smile.

'I’m really glad to hear that! We have a lot to talk about. I fear, you will have to start life over again from the beginning. Nothing was found that could help identifying you, so we need to set up a new identity for the time being. Of course your case won’t be dropped just yet, the police is still trying to figure out more and they’re keeping their eyes open. I hope you understand’, Mrs Parker explained.

'Is it that easy? I mean I just get a new name and stuff and then what?’, you were getting a little agitated you noticed. This whole situation was just beyond frustrating. At least, they kept looking for traces, you really wanted to know who you had been before the accident.

'Of course it’s not that easy. Usually. Having a social worker supporting you in a case like this, is making it an awful lot more manageable, I’ve got all the necessary connections to arrange everything. First step is getting you registered with a new name, health insurance and so on. After you recovered from your injuries, we will take care of an apartment and finding a job for you. I’ll support you through it all’, she said almost too fast for you to process.

Pushing through the dull headache bothering you again, you asked her how you were supposed to afford all of that. She told you, they offered a loan for people in situations like that. That was good. You didn’t want anyone helping you out to their discomfort or financial loss.

'Can you think of a name you would like to have?’, she asked, startling you. 'Here, that’s a list of common first and last names, you can take as assistance’, she said, handing you the papers. There were a whole lot of names.

'Could I take a look at this for some time and decide then? I don’t feel comfortable deciding that on a whim.’

She told you not to worry, that it would last only for the time being until you remembered, but you kept thinking about what the doctor’s told you. Maybe you’d never remember. You wanted to feel comfortable with the name.

'I really want to take my time, looking at it’, you reinforced.

'That’s alright, Miss. It’s your decision after all’, she said, taking a look at her watch. 'I’m afraid I’ll have to leave now, busy schedule. Is catching up tomorrow too soon for making a decision on the name?’, she asked carefully, standing up from her chair.

'No, tomorrow is perfect, I’ll find one until then’, you smiled at her.

'Very good, then tomorrow at the same time. Have a nice day, Miss, and make sure to get enough rest!’, she said, already on her wait out.

'Thank you, have a nice day as well!’, you said, reflexively waving your hand and regretting it instantly, flinching in pain.

You really hoped the injuries would get better soon, the less time you wasted here, the sooner you could get back on your own two feet. And the less you would have to pay back when the loan was due.

You chose to take another sip of coffee, this time with your left hand, because the right one still throbbed from your attempt at waving Mrs Parker goodbye. Then something on the inside of your wrist catched your sight.

Was that a scar? It wasn’t caused by the accident, it was already healed. It looked like the letter J. Could also be just a fucked up cut wound. Maybe you had dropped a knife awkwardly some day in your previous life. You kept looking at it.

'Alright. Just you and me now, you weird little thing. You’re all I have from before’, you mumbled. Taking a look at the list of names for some time. You decided on a name pretty quickly.

'Jeanette Border. Hm. Jeannie Border. Yeah. Jeannie. I like that’, you spoke quietly to yourself, trying how the name felt on your tongue, continuing to sip your coffee, while the scar on your wrist itched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!😘  
> Please leave a comment, to let me know what you think about the fic!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur tries not to lose himself in Arkham State Hospital, but he’s reaching his limits more and more everyday..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by: Sagyunaro on Tumblr  
> https://sagyunaro.tumblr.com/post/188879565007/prompt-for-anyone-wishing-to-write-it
> 
> Find this fic on my Tumblr Blog: JLovesBats  
> https://jaylovesbats.tumblr.com/post/189484815566/chapter-9-so-i-was-met-by-the-realization-i

*** // ARTHUR’S POV // ***

Time was a bizarre construct, not even existing anymore. Nothing but a noise in this much too white room.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

He smiled angrily. The clock. The God. Damn. Clock. That ticking was driving him insane. He started scratching the skin on his forearms.

Counting out loud might drown the noise, he figured.

'One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Seven. Thirteen. Eighty-six.

No! No no no! Again…

One. Two. Five. Fourteen.

Fuck!’

His voice was weak and slurred, while he laid on his back, facing the ceiling, feeling the hard floor beneath him.

He didn’t even recognize himself anymore. Thinking clearly was an impossible task at the moment. He didn’t even know, if he counted properly and just forgot or if he was messing it up for real.

Real. What did that even mean? That word was ridiculous. What in the world was even real? The white walls were real, he had tested them, preferably with smashing his forehead against them.

He could almost taste the walls. They wouldn’t taste like white face paint. Or would they? He missed the taste of it and figured, he should give it a try.

He attempted to get up, failing miserably, the dizziness keeping him glued to the floor, not managing to do more than propping himself up on his elbows.

He could hardly move, being so drugged up on meds, even breathing felt hard to do. He felt numb. He didn’t like it, deciding to do something about it.

He turned, his ribs ached sharply, straining the bruises he sported and he flinched. That was real, right? Doing it again, testing the pain, testing reality. Ouch. Yep. That was definitely real. Pain. He could always rely on that.

Pain kept him centered. Now, that you weren’t-…

*

_'Hi, Darling!’, you said, entering the room he waited in for you. He just loved, when you called him Darling. God, he wanted to swoop you up into his arms and never let go again. So badly._

_Your face lit up with a broad smile and you wore colorful clothes. You were like a touch of life in this boring ass hospital and he didn’t know how that was even possible, but the view made his eyes feel happy._

_'You look stunning, Sweety.’, he said, a dreamy smile on his face. Even to himself, his voice sounded worn out and quiet. He just hoped you wouldn’t make a big deal about it._

_When you sat down, he could smell your perfume from across the table, inhaling it deeply and letting it relax him, feeling a little bit more at home._

_You looked at him, taking him in with an expression, that made clear, you weren’t pleased. At all. You looked worried. And he didn’t like that. He needed to pull himself together, trying immediately to sit up a little more straight._

_'Arthur, are you alright? You haven’t eaten enough lately, haven’t you? Your face looks all thin, even more than usual.’, you said, the broad smile vanishing completely, replaced by your eyebrows drawing together in concern._

_He noticed the guard standing behind you. They never left the two of you alone. No privacy. He hated it._

_'Uh, yeah well, you see… The food isn’t exactly the most delicious in here. No offense to the cook, but I’m pretty sure she chose the wrong profession. She could learn a thing or two from you. God, I miss your pancakes, Sweety.’, he said with a smile, his eyes rolling back at the sheer memory of the taste, trying to cheer you up and lighten the mood._

_Of course he hadn’t eaten well._

_First it was problematic, because he refused to take his medication, not having taken any since he stopped some time before the riots. They had the brilliant idea to put them into his food then, expecting him not to notice. He really thought, the people working here were kind of stupid._

_He had taken meds for the most part of his life, he knew the difference. And when he noticed, he immediately stopped eating altogether._

_His therapist asked him about it, suspecting him to be on a hunger strike, but he told her in all honesty, resulting in them changing their strategy with the meds. Obviously they couldn’t afford him starving to death. Might ruin the image of the hospital and all._

_After that, they made sure, he took the meds. In case he didn’t, which was usually the case, they injected him with it. And now, he just couldn’t keep a thing down, feeling nauseous all the time and lacking appetite all together._

_You grunted out a single laugh at the mention of your cooking skills. 'They’re just plain pancakes, I really don’t know what you like so much about them.’, you said, shaking your head._

_'You made them.’, he stated, propping up his head on one hand, looking at you, smiling softly._

_You turned your head to the side, your cheeks turning a bright shade of pink._

_Beautiful. God, you looked so beautiful. He loved to compliment you, catching you off-guard and making you blush. He enjoyed doing that way too much, although if you two had been at home, he would have earned a light punch to the arm for it._

_'How’s work, Sweetie? You look a little tired.’ He stated, noticing the visible dark circles under your eyes._

_'Uh, i-it’s been fine. Not worse than any other time.’, you stuttered out, obviously still trying to compose yourself. 'Haven’t been getting that much sleep though, maybe that’s it.’_

_'I know. Me neither…’, he said softly, looking at you with all the love he felt for you. He knew you. And you knew him._

_You two both struggled with insomnia at times and loneliness tended to make it worse. He remembered spending long nights with you together, curled up in a bunch of blankets and just talking and cuddling, until the both of you fell asleep eventually._

_He wondered, if you missed him as much as he missed you. He wanted to ask, but not in front of that uniformed ape standing not even three steps away from the table._

_You looked at him, smiling, understanding. And he knew you thought the same._

_'I love you, Darling.’…_

*

Panic rose up his chest. He started screaming. Terrifyingly and shrill.

Pain. Pain. He needed pain. He needed it now or else he would start thinking about how long he had been here and how long he hadn’t seen you-

Screaming more and more loudly, practically begging for his wish to be granted.

'Hey! You fucking dumb ass monkey in dress pants!! You wanna hear a joke??’, Arthur started laughing manically, almost choking on it, because of the threatening panic attack in his chest.

'Laaaaaaarryyyy! Oh, come on, I know you’re on duty today, I memorized your work schedule! By now we know each other so well, almost intimately I dare say! You’re the only one keeping me company, never once failing to cheer me up. We’re having the time of our life in here, don’t you agree, old buddy?? You belong in here just as much as I do, you know??’

'SHUT IT, CLOWN!’, Larry, the security guard on the other side of the white walls yelled, reinforcing his statement with a hit of his baton against the cell door.

Changing his strategy, he cleared his throat, composing his voice, feigning a compassionate and soft tone, giggling inaudibly, shaking, trying not to burst into a wild laughing fit.

'Oh, Larry… I know you’ve been going through a lot lately. Man… I mean, having your electricity cut off, your dog becoming ill and your mother continuing to bother you about calling your ex-girlfriend and all. It’s really not easy, I understand… But I gotta tell you, you’re such a handsome and strong man, I bet she’d take you back in an instant if you just apologized! I mean with all your charme, adorable personality and those cute baby blue eyes of yours, who wouldn’t want to be with you? Although, I gotta be honest with you for a second here, wearing briefs with football print on them could be interpreted as you being immature, and that really wouldn’t impress your lady, now would it? You maybe wanna-…’,

And that was it. All it took for Larry to snap was a little bantering and flirting from man to man and mentioning the things Arthur had overheard, anytime Larry’s colleagues decided to gossip on the hallways near his cell.

The guard hated him. With Larry, he had the best chances of managing these situations without an emotional breakdown. Without having to remember and feel it all. Feel the sorrow.

Laughing to himself, noticing how things had changed. He used to get beaten by people all the time, feeling only resentment, frustration, fear and anger. Now he was practically asking for it. It didn’t matter. It was a joke.

Nothing was worse, than thinking about you and wishing you were here and asking himself again and again why you would do this to him.

Arthur started laughing uncontrollably again, practically howling in delight, knowing what was about to come.

Larry came bolting into his cell, his face red from anger, his fists balled hard enough to drain any color from them. He grabbed his baton then, tightly.

From the look of it, Larry would get him a good fix this time around.

Still it was better than remembering. It made him forget for a while. Just a little while…

And what also went quiet, was that damn clock, which was reason enough to pull this off in of itself.

*

He woke up with a start, sweating and shaking uncontrollably, almost hyperventilating. Trying to catch his breath, he reminded himself that it was just a dream.

He started having nightmares about you shortly after you stopped visiting. Nightmares of you having been killed or taken away.

This time though, it was different.

He dreamed of you being happy somewhere else, being with another man, smiling and living happily ever after.

In the dream he had been standing right in front of you, trying to talk to you, trying to touch you, but he couldn’t lift his arms and no words left his throat. You didn’t notice him standing there.

Going on as if you had never been married to him. As if you had never loved him to begin with. As if he had never even existed.

Insignificance.

The dream left him seething with explosive anger. The meds had worn off by now and he ignored the pain in his body as he stood up.

You had held that guy’s hand. You had hugged him. Even kissed him.

Thrashing his cell, destroying the mattress with his bare hands, flipping over the cot, clawing at the walls, the sheets and himself alike. Raging and screaming in between.

After about fifteen minutes, he was physically completely drained, having sat down on the floor, leaning on the flipped over bed, which stood proudly on one side.

He had accidentally torn up his split lip, a gift Larry had left him, testing it with the pointer finger of his left hand. Blood. He smiled, remembering the riots.

Remembering the blood painted smile on his face. Remembering the cheering crowd. Remembering that he felt relieved and worshipped and seen. Confident and on top of the world.

This wasn’t him.

It was this place. It was getting to him.

He noticed the ring on his left hand, looking at it closely for probably the first time in weeks. He had started avoiding it, when you stopped coming.

You two would be together again some day.

He remembered the promise you two gave each other. All the things you shared, the love he could see in your eyes when you looked at him. Your smile that lit up his world.

You loved him. And you would have never left him for another guy. That just wasn’t like you. Something must have happened.

It was just a dream.

A horrible and terrifying dream.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are slowly getting your life back together, while Arthur’s therapist finally decides to tell him a story, about why you never came back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by: Sagyunaro on Tumblr  
> https://sagyunaro.tumblr.com/post/188879565007/prompt-for-anyone-wishing-to-write-it
> 
> Find this fic on my Tumblr Blog: JLovesBats  
> https://jaylovesbats.tumblr.com/post/189484815566/chapter-9-so-i-was-met-by-the-realization-i

*** // READER’S POV // ***

It didn’t even take another week until you were released from the hospital, the majority of your injuries having already healed in the two weeks you were in coma.

Although your body still felt a little stiff and some of the bruises were still visible, you could walk on your own two feet again and that was enough to work on your new life.

When you were still in the hospital, you and Mrs Parker already went through all the necessary papers you needed to set up your new name, health insurance and things like that.

Now, a few days later, you stood alone in your new home. It was up on the fifth floor of an apartment building in one of the more rundown parts of the city. Mrs Parker offered you a few better ones with more furniture and space, but you simply didn’t feel comfortable spending money, that wasn’t even yours, on luxury.

It was a really tiny apartment. Just a few steps from one end to the other. You didn’t mind though, it was yours now and you never once felt this relieved, since you woke up in the hospital bed. It was as if a burden was taken from your shoulders and you could finally settle down and relax for a bit.

You decided to brush off Mrs Parker’s advice to buy furniture and other things for the household with the loan, to keep the dept as easy and fast to pay back as possible.

The only things you bought were necessities, like a few sets of clothes, some cheap hygiene products and other things to get by, food and a thin mattress you planned to set up on the floor, along with a blanket, one pillow and grey sheets.

Who cared, if you didn’t have a couch or a desk or a laundry bin? It didn’t matter. The apartment had a fully functional kitchen (including a fridge), a tiny bathroom with a small shower cabin and the main room, that was going to be living area and bed room at the same time.

The only thing you bought just for comfort was a cheap radio, to have at least something to keep you company.

In the hospital you noticed, that the nights were long and it was hard for you to fall asleep for some reason. You felt alone most of the time, the older woman that shared a room with you, having slept 24/7 and you really missed talking to somebody. Like, just chatting. Topics that had nothing to do with building a new life or the accident.

You set the radio up and turned it on, taking a little while to find a station that didn’t hurt your ears with cracking and beeping noises. The radio was playing recent songs and it helped a lot to cheer up your mood. You wondered if you had known any of those songs before the accident? It was like hearing them all for the first time.

You grabbed one of the two glasses you had bought, removed the price tag, giving it a quick rinse in the sink and filling it with water, walking back to the living room, taking a sip.

Looking outside the window, you spotted the sunset. It was getting dark fast at this time of the year and you took a few minutes to just stand there and breathe, taking in the sight.

Leaving the glass of water on the old windowsill, you took your time, emptying the groceries you bought, putting the food in the fridge, two towels and toilet paper in the bathroom, but leaving the clothes in the bags you carried them in, so they wouldn’t get dirty.

Afterwards you started to work on setting up the bed, folding the blanket neatly and shaking up the pillow.

Holding the one cushion you had in your hand, you reflexively pulled it up to your face and took a deep breath in. Disappointment. What did you expect? It smelled like freshly bought fabric usually tends to smell. Why were you disappointed?

Sitting down on the makeshift bed, you looked at the apartment door. Staring at it for a few minutes. Feeling your heart sink, you layed down on the mattress, wrapping the blanket around yourself and curling up into a ball. Suddenly you felt tears stinging in your eyes. What the fuck was wrong with you?

Minutes ago you felt relieved and relaxed being in your new apartment and now your were sad??

You wondered, if you had lived together with somebody before the accident? Maybe your heart remembered and felt sad about being alone now.

Wait. You didn’t have any children, did you?!

You ran to the bathroom, for the first time since the accident really taking a good look at your body, inspecting your stomach for any stretch marks or the like, but finding nothing that would indicate, you had given birth to a child at some time in your life.

That was a relieve. The possibility of having left behind children, you couldn’t remember, would have crushed the last bit of optimism and hope you kept clinging onto.

The doctors in the hospital told you, they estimated your age to be around thirty. You didn’t even know your birthday and set it to a random date on your new identity papers.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, not recognizing yourself. Getting ready for bed and brushing your teeth, you kept wondering, if there had been people in your life, that had missed you since the accident.

You didn’t feel like you needed a partner, especially not in the situation you found yourself in right now. But maybe you’ve had one before? Maybe that person was looking for you desperately?

The tears came back. You felt tired and had no energy left to keep your emotions under control, so you went back to the bed, turning off the radio and wrapped yourself back in tightly.

Why should you keep it down anyway? Nobody saw you. So you allowed the tears to flow and soon found yourself a sobbing mess, wrapped in a grey blanket, until you passed out from exhaustion.

*

You couldn’t remember falling asleep. By now the apartment was painted in the glow of the orange morning sun. Your eyes felt beyond tired and you realized you had slept in a pair of jeans and a hoodie.

Well. You were only just starting your new life, things didn’t have to be perfect from the very first day, so no reason to bother.

You had no plans for the day, meeting back up with Mrs Parker by tomorrow. So you figured, going out into the city and just trying to memorize where you could find different shops, companies, cafes and restaurants, was a good way to start your new life. You had to completely reorient yourself, not remembering a thing about this city, that was your home.

You sat on the mattress, turned on the radio and a song named ‘Should I Stay Or Should I Go’ played. It was funky and you felt your leg starting to bounce to the rhythm. It was probably fun to dance to.

Dance… No. You didn’t want to dance. A headache started building behind your temples. Maybe you hated dancing all your life? You probably couldn’t even dance.

This was stupid and it made you somewhat agitated to think about it. You turned down the volume and went to the bathroom, leaving the music behind.

After taking a quick shower and having a small breakfast, you headed out.

You had to admit you felt somewhat anxious, walking around all alone in this busy foreign city. There were so many people on the streets, it was overwhelming and you decided to take a turn, choosing to go for a walk in the park.

It seemed much more free and peaceful. Of course there was trash, as it was everywhere in this city (what was wrong with people??), but seeing the trees in full autumn colors, with leaves dancing in the wind and hearing the birds sing, somehow calmed your anxious mind a little bit.

You decided to sit down on a bench, watching people for a while.

You imagined, that someone could pass by, recognizing you and just taking you back home, wherever the hell that was. But would you really believe them that blindly? You weren’t too sure. It was probably easier imagining it, than dealing with it for real.

Suddenly you heard children laughing loudly and your gaze wandered about, until you spotted a large crowd of them, about ten to fifteen kids, gathering around… What was that? A clown?

Your heart started racing and your eyes went wide, heat creeping up your neck.

Before you could even process, your feet were practically running towards the clown.

You stopped a few metres away, your breathing way out of control. You watched him performing some magic tricks, which made the children clap and cheer loudly. Then he started dancing in a silly way and they laughed, a few of them joining in the dance.

Your heart felt like it was gonna burst and you started feeling dizzy, as a splitting headache suddenly wrecked you. No. Not now. This was important.

You forced yourself to push through the pain, walking through the crowd of children, nudging them out of the way without looking at them, going straight for the clown.

He was startled at you approaching him so fast, and practically squeaked, when you ripped the red nose and the fake green hair off of him, the children gasping and complaining, some of them even scattering away in fear.

'Lady, what are you doing!?’, he yelled, eyeing you as if you grew a second head.

'A-are you…’, you started saying, without knowing what you wanted to ask.

Just a man. You looked at him closely, holding your breath, inspecting his face, searching for… Something.

'Give me me that back!’, he demanded, clearly offended at your rude behavior, forcefully taking back the wig and the nose from your hands. 'Leave me alone and let me do my frickin’ job, some people gotta work for a living!’

Dumbfoundedly you stood frozen in place, him making a move to find another place in the park to perform, the leftover children following him.

Your head was throbbing and you wanted to scream. What did you just do? Why?

Starting to slowly walk backwards, you pressed two fingers into your temple to ease the pain. Breathing was difficult and you started feeling, like you were about to hyperventilate.

This was it. Going to the city was obviously the worst idea you could have had. Feeling like crying all of a sudden, you turned around and started running back to your apartment.

*** // THERAPIST’S POV // ***

'Hello, Mr Fleck. How are you feeling today?’, she started the conversation like she usually did.

The moment he sat down, she noticed, he had really taken it to a whole new level with the self-harming behavior. The skin on his forearms was flayed open, the wounds sporting an angry shade of red. Also he walked, like he had been beaten by the guards again. This wasn’t good. She felt like things were getting out of hand quickly.

He was quietly laughing to himself, like he usually tended to do, not even looking at her, his gaze glazed over and half-lidded. His leg was bouncing and she noted her observations on the sheet of paper in front of her with a pencil.

'You look very unwell. I noticed your injuries and that your symptoms and behavior have gotten worse lately. But I can’t help you, if you won’t talk to me.’, she tried to put as much compassion as possible into her tone of voice. 'Please, look at me. Arthur?’

After a second passed, he slowly lifted his eyes to look at her. She didn’t expect it to be so hard to meet his eyes without looking away.

His eyes were on fire. He may have looked broken and physically weak, but she could see, he was seething with anger.

'I know how people look, that want to help. And you’re not one of them.’, he stated coldly.

At least, he finally looked at her and these were the first words he had spoken to her in weeks. There hadn’t been any more jokes or questions, after his wife had stopped visiting him. Him finally talking again, reinforced her to proceed the conversation as planned.

'I understand, that you don’t trust me, but I’d like to earn your trust, if you give me a chance.’, she said, seeing him narrow his eyes in suspicion.

'You seem agitated. Do you wanna tell me about it?’, she asked.

'You wanna know, why I’m angry?’, he asked, lifting one eyebrow.

'Yes, I do.’, she answered.

'Where is my wife?’, he phrased every word slowly, his voice low.

So, it was time.

She hoped, telling him would play into her hands. He would surely be devastated about hearing it, but she would manage to catch him falling and that would be the first step of his rehabilitation. She had thought about this for a long time, finding the right words and planning each step ahead.

The corner of his mouth twitched. He kept staring at her. He wanted to hear it.

'Alright. Listen, Arthur… I figured it wasn’t the right time to tell you up until now, since you had been feeling so bad lately and I didn’t want you to feel even worse.’, she slowly explained.

His leg stopped bouncing and his gaze was open and fully focused on her face now. Perfect.

'Your wife talked to me, after her last visit here… And she said, she was sorry, but she just couldn’t do this anymore. She explained to me, that she had a lot of changes going on in her life, since you had been captured after the riots. She cried, when she talked to me and said, she just couldn’t handle the loneliness anymore.’, she explained softly.

'What.’, Arthur spoke, being eerily calm, not a hint of emotion showing on his face.

'Arthur, I hate to say it like this, but you know you chose to walk a very dangerous and risky path in life and I think I can relate to your wife feeling left behind by you. It was all about you and getting what you wanted, maybe you didn’t mean to disregard her feelings, but it happened anyway. You gotta let her go, so she can find happiness somewhere else. That way, the both of you can start over and take care of your own needs, without pulling each other down.’, she suggested calmly.

He was staring into nothing, straight through her face. His eyes unfocused.

She expected him to break down. It was necessary, so she could be able to pull him back up. He was probably seconds away from crumbling.

'Arthur, do you understand?’, she asked, not sure if he even heard her.

'H-h-happy?’, he quietly stuttered, before his head bent low, focusing on a point sideways on the table.

'Yes, Arthur. I think the both of you could be a lot more happy without each other. As hard as it might be right now, you gotta accept her decision and-’, she stopped, hearing quiet giggles forming in his throat.

The giggles quickly evolved into a nasty cackle, that became louder by the second. What was this? She heard him having his laughing fits, this was nothing like it. He didn’t choke and it didn’t look painful or embarrassing to him. He just started to laugh in all earnest, free of pain, shame and inhibitions.

His posture changed and his hands roamed about the table in front of him, cuffed hands, chained to the table, spreading over the surface delicately but purposefully, making the chains rattle with the movement.

His hanging head slowly moved back up, his eyes closed, only for him to straighten his back and shoulders, cracking his neck audibly and leaning back, his legs spread.

Then he opened his eyes and looked at her intensely, with a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes.

She started sweating. This wasn’t the reaction she had expected. And this was… unlike Arthur.

Maybe this was his Joker persona having taken over. Fascinating and chilling. She started hastily scribbling notes on the paper without taking her eyes off him.

'Arthur?’, she asked carefully, giving him a questioning look.

'Did… Did you just say, my wife is out there, getting happy without me?’, he questioned, his gaze dark and intense.

'Did you just IMPLY,’, a short giggle escaping his wide stretched smile, 'that she left me??’

'Arthur, I know this is hard to process, but your wife decided to do this and you gotta accept-’

Suddenly things happened so fast, you couldn’t even process. You heard a loud, disgusting cracking sound, him grunting and in a second he was out of his handcuffs, reaching out to forcefully snatch the pencil from her hands, only to slide over the metal table, coming right at her.

The only thing she could hear was his mad cackling. The moment she wanted to start screaming, he grabbed her around the throat forcefully, keeping any sounds other than a choked gurgle from leaving her throat.

She could hear the guard outside, obviously alarmed by the noises, already starting to unlock the door, but it was too late.

Arthur positioned himself behind her, holding her close, his mouth on her ear.

'You better listen and you listen good.’, he growled into her left ear from behind. 'You will help me get out of here if you want to stay alive. Tell them to put their weapons down and lead the way outside. Fast. Do you understand?’, he instructed angrily, with an audible smile.

She nodded hastily, shaking. He took his hand off her throat, gripping her hair forcefully instead, pulling hard to bare her neck, which was already bruising from his grip before and moving the freshly sharpened pencil to the artery in her neck, pushing in deep enough to draw blood.

Then the door was flying open.

'Mrs Larkin!!’, the guard storming into the room yelled, ready to attack, but ceasing any movement the moment he realized the threat.

'DON’T MOVE, CLOWN!! Take the pencil down, RIGHT NOW!’, the guard barked at him, holding his baton in hands, ready to swing.

'Do what you’re told, Missy!’, Arthur whispered into her ear, his voice soft, but dangerous.

'Bolton, t-take down your weapon! P-please, take it down!’, she managed to stammer out, looking at the guard with tears running down her face. The guard reluctantly complied, a shocked and desperate expression on his face.

'Now take a sidestep, buddy!’, Arthur demanded, the guard moving out of the way.

Arthur pulled her along violently, making her mewl in pain, approaching the door. The guard left the keys in the lock.

'I want you to take the keys and lock him in.’, Arthur told her, patiently, as if talking to a child. She did what he asked of her, leaving the guard yelling behind the closed door.

'Now, you better show me the best way to get out without being seen, if you know what’s good for you.’, he giggled excitedly. He wasn’t at all nervous or anxious, he seemed to genuinely enjoy what was happening.

’T-take the last door on t-the left side of the floor, it leads to an e-emergency exit…’, she said, feeling the pencil being buried in her flesh by now.

Reaching the door for the exit, they struggled down two flights of stairs, before finally breathing the chilly air of autumn.

He pulled her along. She didn’t know how things had gone so horribly wrong!

She had planned it all out and it didn’t make any sense, that he reacted this way. She was slowly realizing, that it was her mistake, for expecting a certain behavior of him, not having known, how different he could be.

She got to meet Arthur. But she had never met him in this state. She underestimated this case horribly and now she was paying the price for it.

They found themselves on a parking space for staff members, on the backside of the building.

He took away the pencil then, causing her to cry out in pain and fear. Turning her around to look at her, he pushed her up against the wall, knocking the breath out of her.

She looked at him in terror, while he still kept his grip tight on her hair, smiling down at her, looking like a predator.

'You know, Doc. I’ve been wrong about you. Ya see, right now, you were very, very helpful to me. So I obviously misjudged you and I want to apologize for that. How can I make up for it?’, he asked, voice dangerously low, being close enough that their faces almost touched.

'P-please, just let me go, I d-don’t want to die…!’, she begged, maybe he would…

'Consider your wish granted. I highly advice you, never to forget, how merciful I’ve treated you. But I couldn’t possibly leave you like this, without a parting gift, right?’, he said, smiling widely, his eyes glimmering in excitement.

He reached back far while starting to laugh loudly and she could only watch in terror, as he stabbed the pencil deep into the flesh of her right shoulder, making her let out a blood-curdling scream.

He released his grip on her hair, making her fall to the floor hard.

She managed to follow him with her eyes for a few more seconds before she passed out, watching him run and jump and dance, while his laughter echoed in her ears, chilling her bones.

What had she done…?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs Larkin is trying to limit the damage done, while Arthur completes his escape and pays your old apartment a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by: Sagyunaro on Tumblr  
> https://sagyunaro.tumblr.com/post/188879565007/prompt-for-anyone-wishing-to-write-it
> 
> Find this fic on my Tumblr Blog: JLovesBats  
> https://jaylovesbats.tumblr.com/post/189484815566/chapter-9-so-i-was-met-by-the-realization-i

*** // THERAPIST’S POV // ***

‘She’s here! Hurry up!’, she heard faint voices, footsteps coming closer, while she felt the vibrations in her head.

'Mrs Larkin, can you hear me?? MRS LARKIN!’, she felt a touch on her face and tried opening her eyes. Everything was blurry and her vision was spotted black.

'Call an ambulance!’, the male voice yelled. The person was rearranging her body to lay straight on her back. His face came back into view and the black spots slowly subsided, everything becoming sharper. She was obviously laying on the floor somewhere outside.

'B…Bolton?’, she whispered, her voice barely audible, attempting to move.

'Yeah, I’m here. Please don’t move, you lost a lot of blood.’, he stated, somewhat on edge. 'Mrs Larkin, where is he?’

'Who…’, she asked weakly, not understanding what the guard was talking about, while dizziness overcame her.

'The clown, mam. Where is he??’, he tried again.

Then, everything came rushing back to her with full force. The therapy session. The escape. Suddenly she noticed the sharp pain in her shoulder and attempted to look down. The pencil. Her pencil. Stuck deep in her shoulder.

'Shit!’, she said more loudly now. 'Bolton, I need to talk to the police.’, she pressured, looking at the guard intensely, her eyes now fully open and her heartbeat picking up because of the adrenaline that was flooding her body while realizing the situation they were in.

'Mam, what you need is an ambulance, please just-’, he attempted to speak, but she decided to intervene.

'BOLTON! Get me the police commissioner, RIGHT NOW!’, she yelled, ignoring pain and dizziness, while trying to bring her point across. The guard looked at her, stunned into silence for a few seconds, then quickly composing himself and calling out to one of the other two guards, roaming the surroundings for any trace of Arthur.

'Winston, I need you to call the police. Ask for the commissioner. The Joker escaped so this is an emergency. Tell him to meet us at Gotham General Hospital, we need him there personally.’, he explained to the other guard, which she recognized as one of the newbies of their staff. Winston was looking pale and anxious, he was sweating profusely. But he nodded quickly and started running inside.

Her thoughts were racing and she tried to plan out what the best thing to do would be. She needed to have the police informed about the situation and give them instructions as fast as possible, they had to get him back. She just hoped, she would manage to stay conscious long enough to talk to the commissioner herself, or else they’d lose precious time, they needed to be a step ahead of him.

She heard the sirens of the ambulance coming closer and felt her stomach clench with anxiety, when she realized, she had to explain this mess to her boss soon, the wound on her shoulder almost forgotten.

*** // ARTHUR’S POV // ***

He ran. He was pretty sure he had never run this fast in his entire life. Well. The last time the police almost catched him in the subway right before the Murray Franklin show, he had run fast as well.

But not for this long. The pain in his ribs was tremendous and he had trouble breathing. Although the adrenaline rush his escape brought him, helped lots with keeping up the pace.

His destination was the part of Gotham mainly poor people lived in, with lots of rundown buildings and dark alleyways. The people there were used to overlook weird behavior and shady business, aiming to save their own life by avoiding trouble.

There, he would have the best chance of going unnoticed and finding a place to hide. Also lots of people that joined the riots lived around that part of the city as well, maybe he could find some support there if he got lucky.

The police was going to start looking for him any minute now, him estimating that about thirty minutes must have passed, since he left his therapist behind, bleeding on the floor.

She got what she deserved.

He would have preferred to take his time with her, convincing her with some rather unpleasant, but effective methods to tell him all the details he wanted to know about your conversation with her. But there was no time and he could always find out where she lived and pay her a visit later on.

He was sure, she left out quite a few things about your last visit, therapists tended to only mention the things that got them results and twist anything else beyond recognition.

He hated them, all together. But seeing her shake with fear and being stripped of her usual confidence was beyond satisfying, he had to admit.

He felt anger bubbling up in his chest. Stopping for a second, he kicked a garbage bag full force with a grunt, splitting it open, so the contents spread all over the sidewalk.

How dare his own therapist hide something like that from him?? If he had known, he would have attempted to escape sooner and hadn’t wasted so much time.

He wondered, how far you got by now. Maybe you moved to another apartment or even left the city… He still couldn’t believe you would do this do him. It was like the nightmare he had all over again and he felt his body go tense just at the thought of another man, being the reason you left him…

No, not now.

He needed to focus on the task at hand.

As he ran down the third filthy back alley, the buildings becoming more and more shabby and the garbage piling higher on the streets, he stopped running, panting heavily and took a good look at his surroundings, trying to find a place to stay.

It was almost dark by now, the sun vanishing even faster because of the rainy clouds, threatening to spill any second now. He only wore his thin white Arkham uniform, feeling already cold and he had too many things, that needed attending to, so he couldn’t afford getting drenched and catching a cold on top of everything else.

The four-story apartment building he stood next to seemed abandoned. He spotted a fire escape ladder nearby and figured he’d give it a try.

Although he had to be careful… His escape left some marks on his body. Looking at his left hand, he flinched when he found his thumb swollen in a deep shade of blue. It was probably broken, considering the loud crack that occurred. He aimed to dislocate it, but since he had never done that before and also with that extend of anger present at the time, he just did what he had to do, to get out of the handcuffs.

He had tried the restraints in previous therapy sessions already, the therapist obviously not concerned about it. His right hand was a little more flexible and he found out, that if he got the other one free first, he could just pull off the other handcuff. It left only a few scratches on his hand, bleeding, but nothing serious.

He climbed it and pulled the ladder up behind him to keep anyone from following him. The highest floor seemed to be the best choice, so nobody could spot him through a window, when looking up from the streets.

Keeping good watch of the injured hand, he climbed higher with some effort, still struggling to get enough air into his lungs, until he finally reached the fire escape door of the fourth floor, pulling it open carefully and listening for any noises coming from the inside. Nothing but silence.

He took his first step inside, just as it started pouring from above, thunder rumbling in the sky.

*

The apartment he chose still had some dusty and worn furniture inside and obviously the water supply hadn’t been cut off yet, so he could at least wash himself with cold water.

He splashed his face with a handful of water, quickly refreshing his sweaty skin and also letting it run over his broken thumb for a while, cooling the swelling injury.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he almost didn’t recognize himself. His hair was longer and he looked sick.

Lifting up his shirt and inspecting his body then, he noticed you were right, when you told him that he had lost weight. His hipbones and bruised ribs were sticking out prominently now, his stomach concave and his face sunken in.

He didn’t really notice, because he didn’t pay any attention in Arkham, being too high on drugs to even care most of the time. Also there was rarely a mirror within view.

He went back to the living area then and decided to sit down on the couch and rest for a few minutes. Thinking about the next thing to do.

First he had go to your apartment and see with his own eyes, if you were really gone.

Therefore he needed some clothes to cover his identity, preferably something to conceal his face.

He stood up to roam through the apartment, searching for a closet or wardrobe. There was a lot of clutter on the floor, old towels, garbage and broken dishes alike.

He found a large dark grey jacket with a hood, hanging on a hook next to the entrance door.

In the former bedroom, where only an empty bed frame without a mattress stood, he found a pair of old boots, the leather weathered and dirty.

In the closet at the opposite wall of the bed frame, he found a pair of jeans that were obviously much too big for him, they would slip from his waist, if he didn’t fix them in place somehow.

He didn’t find a belt, but there was a messy pile of thread on one of the kitchen counters and he figured, it would serve the purpose.

He didn’t find a shirt, so he left the Arkham issued t-shirt on, nobody would see under the jacket anyway. He changed into the jeans, fiddling the thread through the loopholes at the waistline and knotting the ends together, then he put on the boots and zipped up the jacket.

Then, as he stood in front of the entrance door, ready to leave, he suddenly stumbled and needed to slide down a wall and sit down on the floor for a second, only now realizing how dizzy he felt.

He hadn’t eaten in days and pulling off a half hour sprint in this condition (with a painful injury on his hand and bruises all over his body) had obviously robbed him of any energy that his weakened body might have had left.

Struggling to get back up, he supported himself on the walls to go back to the kitchen, looking for anything edible. He found some cans and decided he’d go for sweet peaches. He went without cutlery, not bothering to look where to find some, digging in with his bare fingers instead.

It took about ten minutes to empty the can because he had to be careful, not to upset his stomach by eating too much food too fast.

He gave his hands a quick wash and already felt the sugar kicking in. It was great not to feel so sick anymore, having had his last shot of medicine early in the morning so the effects had somewhat worn off by now.

Leaving the apartment the same way he got inside, he pulled the hood over his head and started walking the long way to your apartment.

*

Sneaking into your apartment building, he looked around every corner to make sure he was alone. They must have contacted the police by now and they couldn’t be stupid enough to not consider the possibility of him roaming your apartment. It was risky, but he just had to do it. All or nothing.

His heart rate was picking up, when he finally stood in front of your door. What if you were still there? Did the police already inform you about his escape and took you away for your own safety?

This was ridiculous. You hated the police. You had never been a person to rely on others to solve your problems. If you indeed still lived here, you would face him, knowing he would come for you.

Then again, you had just cowardly disappeared and didn’t talk to him about anything… Maybe he didn’t know you as well as he thought.

The door wasn’t locked and in that moment he already knew, you weren’t there anymore. When you two were together, you were even more careful than him and made sure every lack of security had been taken care of. He knew, you would never leave your door open like this.

Stepping inside, he stopped breathing for a moment. He was shocked. Everything looked the same. You hadn’t taken anything with you. It even smelled like you. Still, after all those weeks, the scent of your perfume and scented candles was persistently stuck in the walls.

He closed the door behind him, taking a few steps inside. Nobody was here. For a few agonizing moments, he took his time to just walk around and take it all in. Even an opened bag of sweets laid on the couch table, abandoned. You used to love those sweets.

His heart was aching.

*

_'Darling, how about you make yourself comfortable and sit down on the couch, I’ll be right there with you in a second!’, you said with a giddy smile on your face, after pressing a chaste kiss to his lips._

_He came over after work, being exhausted and he felt better in an instant, just hearing your voice and seeing you happily smile at him._

_He took off his jacket and shoes, abandoning the bag, containing his clown costume, by the door. It was raining outside and his hair was hanging down his face, dripping._

_He decided to go to the bathroom and get a towel, not wanting to drip all over the floor and furniture. Your apartment always looked so neat, smelling like vanilla scented candles and just uniquely you. He would never want to carry in any dirt or make a mess in here._

_After drying off his wet hair hurriedly, he wrapped the towel around his neck and sat down on the couch._

_A lit candle stood on the table, spreading warm light through the living room, two glasses already waiting for the both of you. Hearing you rummage in the kitchen, he wondered what you were up to._

_The two of you had planned on going out this evening, having dinner at a restaurant. Arthur had worked even more than usual, just to be able to treat you for dinner tonight. And because of something else as well…_

_The little box in his pocket suddenly became heavy. He had planned this out for weeks in advance and all he wanted to do was making this evening as special and unforgettable as possible for you._

_He was nervous enough as is, so he wondered what was going on, when you came out of the kitchen, your arms packed full of snacks, holding two bottles of wine, beaming at him, struggling not to drop anything while walking over to him._

_'Y/N, what are you doing??’, he asked in surprise._

_Emptying your arms of their content, while getting on your knees on the floor, you looked at him and shrugged._

_'Arthur, I know you’ve been working a lot lately and I’m sure you are exhausted, which is why I figured we could do movie night instead of heading out. Also it’s pouring outside and the way to the restaurant is quite long.’, you explained a little nervously, while he gawked at you, at a complete loss of words._

_'Oh, no! Y-you really don’t need to worry about it, I’m fine! And I really want to go to dinner with you, I mean-’, he said, struggling to explain to you, why it was so important to go to the restaurant, without revealing his plans._

_'Darling, I know you really wanted to take me out to dinner and it made me really happy, when you invited me! But I figured, you would probably be very uncomfortable sitting in a restaurant, because large groups of people tend to make you nervous and you always worry about bothering them with your laughter. I don’t want you to ignore your own well being, just to make me happy._

_You know… I really don’t mind staying here and having a nice evening with you, just the two of us. I’d prefer this over a fancy dinner anytime.’, you said, taking his hands and looking at them, smiling, while you were talking softly._

_He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know, you thought about things like that and that you were concerned about him to that extend._

_He just wanted to prepare a 'normal’ dinner date with you, because usually being with him was anything but. He felt like he wanted to put you first and treat you for once, because you gave him so much, never bothering his at times weird behavior, his mental illness, his mother or the lack of money._

_image_  
_What should he do now? He stared down at you, while you suddenly met his eyes, smiling amusedly, taking one hand up to his hair and running your fingers through it gently._

_'Your hair is still all wet, Darling.’, you said with a fond voice._

_He loved you so much. His heart was overflowing with adoration and he couldn’t control himself, when he grabbed your face with both hands and pulled you up to meet him in a passionate kiss. You moaned in pleasant surprise, and rose up to sit down in his lap._

_He felt your hands on him, holding him by the collar of his shirt with one hand, the other one still in his hair, now gripping it tightly to pull him in closer._

_It felt so good, when you sat in his lap like this, he never wanted to let go, feeling the heat of your body against his and the little sounds you made, as he ran one hand down your spine, were just too perfect for this world._

_'Arthur.’, you gasped, interrupting the kiss. 'Does that mean we’re staying here?’_

_'Yes, Sweetie.’, he mumbled, his breathing labored. Your scent was positively overwhelming him._

_'I hoped, you would say that.’, you said with a smug smile on your face, suddenly leaning back to pull one of the bags laying on the table, holding it up for him to see. 'I bought the good stuff.’, you said with a toothy grin._

_He recognized it as one bag of the sweets you two loved so very much, him not having known them before he met you, but now sharing your love for them. He started laughing wholeheartedly, his hands squeezing your hips._

_The laughter suddenly died in his throat, replaced by anticipation surging through his whole body._

_He couldn’t wait any longer._

_You certainly deserved more than a proposal on your couch with a bag of sweets accompanying you. But seeing you beaming at him like this, always making him feel so joyful and genuinely happy, while not even expecting anything in return, just made him want to do it now._

_'Darling, what is it? What’s bothering you, you can tell me.’, you said with a concerned voice, he obviously hadn’t noticed he was being quiet for too long, his face lost deep in thought._

_'Stand up for me, would you?’, he said quietly, his heart beating so loud, he was afraid you might hear it._

_You looked surprised, but complied, still staring at him in concern._

_He brushed of the towel, placing it on the couch next to him, then he stood up to stand in front of you, looking you directly in the eyes with all the warmth he could muster, expressing all his love non-verbally._

_'I got something… for you.’, he said, nervously, fumbling with his hands and then slowly reaching into his pocket._

_'Arthur, you don’t need to give me anything in return, it’s-’, she stopped mid-sentence, seeing him kneel down in front of her, pulling out the tiny box from his pocket and looking up to you nervously, but determined nonetheless. His eyes full of purpose._

_Then he opened the box, revealing a beautiful polished silver ring with a little crystal embedded in it. You gasped, your eyes widening and lips parting in shock. Gods, he hoped he wouldn’t mess this up with stuttering or having another laughing fit._

_'Y/N. I love you more than anything in this world. You are the light of my life and I want to be with you forever. Please… Will you marry me?’, he finally asked, his pulse hammering in his ears, his hands shaking._

_Looking up at you, he saw tears pooling in your eyes, while your hands covered your mouth, little sobs escaping your lips. The sight took his breath away, his heart aching. It took you a few seconds to process._

_'Arthur…! Are you for real?? Really? I mean…’, you rambled in nervousness, stumbling over your words. 'Of course!!_

_'Is that a yes…?’, he asked insecurely, needing to make sure he heard that right._

_'YES, YES, YES!! Oh my God Arthur!’, you practically squealed, tears now rolling down your cheeks freely, sobbing into your hands._

_Yes. You said yes. Gods, you hadn’t said no, you didn’t make fun of him, or politely tried to brush it off. He had expected anything, having already steeled himself against any possible outcome. Every single one except the option of you actually accepting his proposal, obviously. He was so overwhelmed with it, he almost forgot to move._

_Getting up, he started laughing, now beginning to cry himself, relief and happiness washing over him. Then he took your hand, putting the ring on your left ring finger and just managed to take a quick relieved look at you, before you practically jumped at him, hugging him tightly and sobbing into his shoulder._

_He couldn’t believe it. He held you close for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Moving his hands to your face and cupping your cheeks, he looked at you with the most honest smile he had ever felt in his life, tears falling over his face._

_'Y/N, you just made me the happiest man in the world, I love you so much!’, he kissed you then, desperately, needing to get you closer. The tears on your faces mingled, as you returned the kiss passionately, your body shaking with all the emotions you felt._

_He grabbed you by the hair then, deepening the kiss, while you started opening his shirt buttons sloppily, the two of you moving towards the bedroom without even looking._

_This was the beginning of the rest of your life together. The sweets laying forgotten on the table._

*

'NO!!! Fuck, no!’, Arthur screamed, pulling his own hair in all the desperation, anger and loss he felt at remembering that day. 'How could you do this to me?? WHY?!’ He started crying while he continued to scream in despair, walking around the apartment in pointless patterns, not knowing how to help himself, kicking furniture forcefully on the way.

Suddenly changing direction, he went straight for the bedroom, trying in vain not to summon up more memories while looking at the bed, moving directly to the closet, yanking both doors open. He started carelessly pulling out the content, spreading your clothes all over the floor, not caring about the mess he made.

Nothing was left of him. All the clothes and belongings you kept of him were gone.

He found it then. The wedding dress. It was simple, without any fancy decorations, besides sparkling seams and a floral design on the chest area. It was all silky white fabric, strapless, long enough to slide on the floor behind you while walking, like a wave of weightless silverdust. He would take it with him.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching outside the apartment door, fast. A plan to get out of here without being caught, already forming in his head.

He threw the dress over his shoulder and ran for the bathroom as fast as he could, the cops already yanking the apartment door open, yelling after him.

Closing the door and locking it, he remembered that in your last weeks together, you had always kept a gun hidden in the toilet cistern, in case any threat might occur unexpectedly. He yanked the lid off of it, grabbing the gun and extra ammunition, both wrapped in a plastic bag, only to take out the gun and load it.

The police officers were trying to bolt through the door, producing loud banging sounds while they threw themselves against it repeatedly. He wouldn’t wait long enough to let them get inside.

He spotted a bottle of your perfume on the sink. No way he’s gonna leave it here, taking it with him like the dress, to at least have something of you with him.

He pocketed the bottle then, holding up the gun to take aim at the door. They didn’t know he was armed. He’d surprise them and it would be the last thing they’ll see.

He started laughing manically, firing the gun at the next contact the officer had with the door. After that, he immediately yanked it open to get the other officer, which fell down backwards in surprise, his colleague dead on the floor. Arthur had obviously shot the bullet right into his chest, a pool of blood already forming.

Continuing to laugh, he aimed at the other officer, which scrambled on the floor and tried to reach for his own gun in his belt. But it was too late for that. He shot him right between the eyes. Stepping over them carelessly, he left the apartment.

Two dead cops and sounds of gun-firing would pull attention fast, so Arthur started running instantly, hurrying down the fire escape at the end of the floor, to get outside unnoticed.

He needed to get back on his feet and find you. He had lots of things to do. And he would get what he wanted.

He wouldn’t just stand there and take it, that you left him. He couldn’t accept that.

'Til death do us part, Sweetie.’, he said, starting his way back.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You were getting used to your new life and job, as you noticed people following you. Arthur can’t stop dreaming of you and you have a shot-lived conversation with Sophie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by: Sagyunaro on Tumblr  
> https://sagyunaro.tumblr.com/post/188879565007/prompt-for-anyone-wishing-to-write-it
> 
> Find this fic on my Tumblr Blog: JLovesBats  
> https://jaylovesbats.tumblr.com/post/189484815566/chapter-9-so-i-was-met-by-the-realization-i

*** // READER’S POV // ***

You just left from your first official day at your new workplace. It was a nice beautiful coffee shop, you discovered the other day and you really loved the rustic atmosphere, the jazzy music and the heavy scent of grounded coffee in the cafe.

You went there a few times until you noticed, they had a job offer hanging by the entrance door and applied immediately without consulting Mrs Parker.

It felt good, so you did it. You didn’t need the approval of anyone for doing, what made you happy. She was a nice woman, but you noticed how she kept walking on eggshells around you and you hated it more than anything else.

She was probably pitying you and there was no way you were going to reinforce her behavior, by acting like you couldn’t do anything on your own.

Your boss was a guy in his forties, dressed nice, telling you he was glad he found somebody for the job that didn’t just leave school, like most of the other applicants obviously did, bringing no experience or even the ability of friendly and polite behavior to the workplace. He was obviously very dedicated in keeping his coffee shop’s pleasant environment.

Your colleagues were all pretty nice, no assholes, as far as you could tell after your first day there. Most of them were women your age or above, only two or three guys, a few talking about their families, others about hanging out together. You felt really enthusiastic about the atmosphere there, hoping it would stay like that.

The payment was good enough, that next month you could not only afford paying your rent and support your household all by yourself, you could also buy a bit of furniture and clothes.

Paying off the debt Mrs Parker provided would take a few months, although you set the monthly ammount to pay back really high already. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but things were starting to look better now.

It was early evening and you walked down about four blocks, when you noticed that two guys had been following you for some time.

They looked shady, wearing sunglasses and dark clothes. You doubted they were very good at shadowing somebody, it couldn’t really get any more obvious than how they did it.

They kept their distance to you and you figured to be absolutely sure about their agenda, you’d walk a circle around the block. Your anxiety was building, although the situation didn’t seem like they wanted to approach you.

The streets were full of people at this time, most people going home from work, it was unlikely somebody would dare to harm you all out in the open in front of so many people. But then again, this was Gotham, one could never be sure.

They were still following you, even if you were going nowhere. You tried not to look at them directly. Your heartbeat was starting to race and somehow you just wanted to run.

You didn’t. Instead you picked out the next best place to go inside, finding a Chinese restaurant that offered full service and take out. You wanted to see if they’d follow you inside or stop in front of the door.

Noticing, how hungry you were, you decided to actually get some takeout then, as a reward for having mastered the first day at your new job, choosing fried rice with chicken.

Waiting for your order, you took a look outside, smiling at some kids passing by and throwing a quick glance at the two suspicious guys, actually standing on the opposite side of the street, having a smoke. They talked to each other, obviously waiting for you to come back out. Bingo.

Plotting on how to get rid of them, you decided on looking for an exit in the back of the restaurant.

You asked politely, if you could use their toilet and the woman working behind the counter didn’t mind at all, giving you the food in a plastic bag and showing you the way to the guest bathroom.

When she left, you took a careful glance outside the hallway, to avoid anyone noticing you were sneaking around.

The restaurant was actually pretty nice, not rundown at all, so it wasn’t too difficult to sneak past the closed door to the kitchen and find an exit sign at the end of the hallway.

Opening the door and leaving the two guys behind on the street, you hoped they would wait their asses off in the cold.

Your pulse was still racing. Your little adventure obviously gave you an adrenaline rush, you felt giddy and proud of yourself for being able to escape their view this effectively.

You wondered, if you had done something like this before? It felt really familiar. And of course not anyone just panics when being followed like that, but usually people would, right?

You felt like you were a little too calm in that kind of situation and the strange familiarity of it all, left you wondering.

Walking down a back alley, you were asking yourself once again, what happened before the accident, what your life might have been like. It made you kind of sad.

But how could you be sad, if you didn’t even know, what you were missing? You just felt like something important had been there before and was missing now and thinking about stuff like this always left you feeling like there was a big hole in your chest.

Noticing steps behind you, you turned around and spotted the two guys. Again. Really?

It was slowly getting dark outside and they had taken off their sunglasses. Taking a good look at their faces, memorizing them, you turned around, hearing them behind you, following still, although they had been spotted. Amateurs.

While walking, you put the food inside your backpack, putting it back on and zipping up the cheap jacket you wore. You couldn’t use anything bothering you with what you planned to do in a second.

Turning around the next corner, leaving their sight, you started sprinting.

You were wearing shoes, that didn’t produce a whole lot of sound hitting the pavement. That would buy you some extra time to get away from them until they noticed, you were bolting.

You tried to take back alleys. Running through the crowds on the main roads would have little effect, only hindering your speed.

A headache started forming behind your temples and your back didn’t feel too good either. The doctors told you to avoid physical strain in the coming weeks. Well. Getting away was more important than worrying about your still healing body.

You must have ran a few blocks by now, not knowing where the fuck you were, you didn’t recognize anything. But at least you couldn’t hear them anymore, so you stopped, catching your breath while leaning on the next best wall.

You felt like shit. You should avoid doing this again, your spine was aching horribly and your head throbbed.

You walked out on the street, still keeping your eyes open in case they’d catch up to you again, as unlikely as that was.

It was fairly dark now, and suddenly it started raining. Great. Now you had about enough with this day, sighing heavily and you started to go on, wandering.

You tried to estimate where you were, to start your way back home as soon as possible, but you felt completely lost.

*** // ARTHUR’S POV // ***

*

_‘Arthur… No matter what happens, you’re going to be okay. I’m here with you’, you said with a soft voice._

_He was laying on the bed his mother used to sleep in, she was in the hospital now. He had just come back from her being admitted._

_You sat right next to him on the edge of the bed, slowly stroking his back. He felt the warmth of your hand through his clothes._

_'It was my fault.’, he said in a broken whisper._

_'Darling, no! It wasn’t your fault, your mother has been ill for a long time, please don’t blame yourself for it.’, you said, pulling his shoulder back so you could take a look at his face._

_'You know it all happened because of me! The police officers came here to talk to me. And I wasn’t there. It IS all my fault. She wouldn’t have had to talk to them, if I had been here.’, he explained in a frustrated and sad tone, tears rolling down his face._

_'Arthur, this isn’t…’_

_'No, Y/N. You don’t understand. I killed those men in the subway and this is the result, it’s all coming back to me and people around me are suffering for it!’, he sobbed, now having sat up to look at you directly, gesticulating wildly._

_'No, I want you to stop doing this to yourself!’, you said, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him.'They attacked you and they were horrible people. I’d never want anyone to beat on you and I feel better, now that I know you can stand up for yourself! You did what you had to do and I’m glad I got you back safe, instead of being beaten all to hell and hiding from me what happened, like you did any other time!’, you practically yelled, looking infuriated and insulted._

_He was speechless after what you told him._ _Yes, he had tried to hide his injuries more times than not, never wanting to tell you how often people beat on him. He felt weak, like a loser and he didn’t want you to worry._

_You had found out almost every time, seeing it in the way he moved. Then you always treated his injuries without commenting on it, helping him with anything he needed._

_'I wish I had taken the beating instead of my mother being in the hospital because of what I did.’, he said with a frown, his eyebrows furrowing, eyes casting down to his lap._

_You looked at him angrily, at a loss of words. Then you stood up and bolted out of the bedroom._

_Anxiety bubbled up in his chest, along with a laughing fit. Giggling, he threw off the blanket and stood up, running after you, feeling like he was about to choke on all the nervous energy inside of him._

_He couldn’t take it, if you left him right now._

_'Y/N… Please! C-Can you wait for a s-second?’, he managed between bursts of laughter, he tried to control desperately, while you were already putting on your jacket._

_He hated, that the fits always tended to happen when he could use them least. It was a curse._

_'For what??’, you yelled, tears in your eyes, looking at him desperately. 'To watch you crumble and take everything honest and strong about you away, just to put others first all the time? Darling, I love how caring and sensitive you are, but it makes me SO ANGRY when you blame everything that happens on yourself. You don’t deserve that. And I hate that you said, you should have taken that beating! I’m not going to listen to this any longer!’, you yelled, tears rolling down your flushed cheeks._

_He looked at you in shock, never having seen you so angry and shaken before. Then as you turned around to leave, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back, still giggling, looking at the floor._

_'Arthur, let go. I will leave now. I won’t listen to you talk like that about MY HUSBAND! You don’t even realize how much it’s hurting me, when you say things like that! I’m glad, you killed those guys, I wouldn’t want to have it any other way, not for your mother or anyone else in this fucking world! You’re all I have!!’, you yelled, trying to pull your hand out of his grasp._

_But he wouldn’t let you. He held your wrist in a vice grip, an utter calmness washing over him all of a sudden, the laughing stopped and his breathing evened out._

_You were scared. And you were right._

_He didn’t consider, how you might feel about what he had said, being too lost in his own guilt and sorrow. He failed you as your husband. This, you standing in front of him angry and sobbing, was his doing._

_And he had to make it right._

_'Y/N. I want you to stay.’, he said in a confident tone of voice, his grip tightening. You looked at him in irritation._

_'Arthur, I swear to God, let go of me. I will leave now.’, you said, getting angrier by the second._

_'No.’, he said, looking straight into your eyes, a determined expression on his face._

_You tried to wiggle out of his grasp, failing miserably. Then you approached him, shoving him against the wall in your struggle._

_He lifted your hand up, spinning you skillfully, as if this was a dance, so your back met his chest. His other arm coming around you as well to hug you tightly, not being able to move._

_'Arthur, what are you doing??’, you questioned, out of breath from struggling so hard._

_He didn’t even know. He hated getting physical. And he felt horrible, keeping you from leaving._

_But he couldn’t make it up, if you were gone. He couldn’t let you leave like this._

_Lifting you up from the ground, he carried you back into the bedroom, while you complained loudly and kicked your legs. Releasing his grip and shoving you onto the bed, he closed the door behind him hastily._

_You looked at him in shock, completely dumbfounded by his reaction. It took you a second to react, then you crawled to the edge of the bed, attempting to get up._

_Either this would work, or he would regret it horribly._

_He approached you fast, pushing you down on the bed by your shoulders, got on top of you, straddling your waist and leaning down to kiss you passionately. His hands were holding your face now, not gentle, but not painful either._

_Suddenly, you started wiggling under him, taking your hand up to the collar of his shirt, grabbing it hard. You pushed him away with a gasp._

_Your eyes were wide open, lips parted and swollen, the tears drying on your cheeks. One seconds, two. The both of you staring at each other heatedly._

_His lips parted to say something, explain himself, apologize, literally anything._

_But before he could start speaking, you pulled him back in, a hand grabbing at his neck, kissing him hard._

_He moaned into you, your taste was driving him insane. Every thought of apologies forgotten now._

_This was different. He felt different. And you obviously liked it. Usually you two making love was intimate and soft and slow, there has rarely been a spark like this._

_The last time something similar happened, was after he killed the three guys in the subway and came home to practically jump you and you went right along with it._

_Testing the limits, he worried your lips with his teeth, biting down hard and pulling your hair, which made you moan and close your eyes in bliss._

_He grabbed your jaw roughly now to turn your head sideways, allowing him access to your neck._

_His other hand was wandering lower, touching the curves, hidden beneath your jacket, eagerly._

_He heard you whine and gasp beneath him, baring your neck. You let his hot tongue caress the sensitive skin on the side of your neck, sucking marks into it._

_He loved leaving marks on you. He wanted more, so he bit down on your neck hard._

_It made you writhe in pain and pleasure and he never expected to enjoy seeing you like that so much._

_You moved your hand down from his hair to his back, desperately pulling on his shirt, the other one wandering to squeeze his thigh and inching closer to his crotch, until your hand touched him through his strained pants._

_It had him growling._

_'A-Arthur…’_

*

He woke up with a loud gasp, breathing heavily.

'Shit!!’, he yelled, practically jumping up off the couch and needing only a second to settle on what to do.

He flipped over the couch table. It wasn’t enough. He ran to the kitchen, pulling out the cabinet drawers forcefully, then going back to the living room, deciding to thrash the couch table completely.

He kicked it hard a few times, the wooden pieces coming apart, which he took and threw around the apartment. Then he took the plate of the table, lifting it up and crashing it down onto the floor violently, until it broke.

His breathing labored, he sat down on the floor, leaning his back on the side of the couch.

These dreams were killing him. It’s gotten so much worse, since he escaped Arkham. The drugs they gave him there were horrible, but they usually tended to knock him out cold at night. No dreams. Just plain black unconsciousness. He was missing that a little.

He had taken a nap in bright daylight, not having been able to sleep that good the past night. Now the sun was already gone, leaving behind a dark and rainy world outside.

Looking down at his legs, he noticed his right foot was bleeding. He had probably stepped into one of the shards on the floor, left behind by the last resident a long time ago.

Also he noticed he was sporting a massive hard-on, begging for attention.

'Yeah, right. Absolutely not.’, he said to himself. He wouldn’t do anything about it. Not here, not now and not alone. It would only frustrate him even further, thinking about you…

Then he got up, being careful not to put too much weight on his cut foot, and noticed one of the wooden floorboards sticking out weirdly.

He knelt down to inspect it more closely, seeing some plastic foil beneath the wood.

Taking a piece of wood broken off of the table, he worked the floorboard up completely, only to be met with the sight of a big stash of money, wrapped in a plastic bag.

He laughed loudly and freely, the situation being too fucking ridiculous not to.

Still giggling, he pulled the money out and started counting. It was more than enough.

Luck was on his side it seemed and he figured to put it to good use. It was time to get going.

***// READER’S POV // ***

You walked around in circles, swearing you had passed that building you were at already.

You had no idea where you were and how to get back to the lively parts of Gotham. And you were drenched from the rain. This was horrible.

You’ve been walking for almost an hour now and it led to nothing. The buildings around you were obviously apartment buildings.

Suddenly, one of them catched your eye. It seemed familiar somehow. The building’s facade looked rundown and there was graffiti everywhere.

Your head started throbbing again. As if you were in some kind of trance, you walked up the few steps to the buildings entrance and thought nothing, only static in your head.

Opening the door, the feeling of familiarity became worse. Standing inside the hallway, you noticed the mailboxes. There was an elevator as well. Apartments on both sides of you. You heart rate was picking up and you started feeling dizzy.

Suddenly, you heard steps approaching from behind you.

Turning around, you saw a woman approaching, her hair was in an updo and she looked about the same age as you, her dark caramel skin glowing in the neon lights.

She had a little girl with her, maybe her daughter. She was laughing at something the little girl said, holding her hand.

That was a beautiful smile. And somehow it made you angry. Why were you angry at someone being happy? What was wrong with you? You continued staring at them, while you started to feel more and more nervous.

The woman stopped mid-step when she noticed you and met your gaze, the smile instantly dying on her face, her eyes widening. She seemed… scared? Worried? You couldn’t really place it.

'Oh, h-hi!’. She stuttered, faking a smile, that was just a touch too wide, not reaching her eyes.

'Hello.’, you were at a loss of words at what you felt while looking at her.

'Uhm, you haven’t been around in a long time. H-How have you been?’, she asked, seemingly anxious, trying to make her way past you slowly, keeping some distance. Also she kept her little girl somewhat behind her, pulling her close.

'What?’, you asked dumbfoundedly. Did she know you?

Suddenly the headache got so much worse, you wanted to scream.

'What are you talking about?!’, you practically yelled, sudden anger bursting out of you while a hand moved up to press into your temple, easing the pain a little.

The woman jumped a little at your loud voice. 'Sorry, never mind!’, she answered in a shriek, quickly making her way to the elevator, pulling her child with her.

You were left standing in the hallway, feeling dizzy and frustrated and angry.

You had no idea what this was all about. You had to go home. Right now.

You practically ran out the door, onto the street. Being fed up with not knowing where you were, you stopped one of the very few cars passing by, right in the middle of the street, asking which direction the inner city was.

It startled the driver, but you got what you wanted and didn’t stop running, until you were back on safe grounds.

The streets began to look more lively, more cars driving in the streets and as soon as you spotted a street name you recognized you felt relief wash over you.

You were exhausted and more than a little disturbed by the little encounter you had with that woman.

Going home, you remembered, that you still had the takeout in the backpack and felt glad you had it. You weren’t going to be able to manage anything else than eat and go to bed as soon as you were home, that was for sure.

You felt like the woman was a danger to you, somehow. And you sure as hell would go back to see her again. But not today.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur tries desperately to get information about you and meets a new friend along the way. You continue to struggle with breakdowns until you meet a strangely familiar man in the park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by: Sagyunaro on Tumblr  
> https://sagyunaro.tumblr.com/post/188879565007/prompt-for-anyone-wishing-to-write-it
> 
> Find this fic on my Tumblr Blog: JLovesBats  
> https://jaylovesbats.tumblr.com/post/189484815566/chapter-9-so-i-was-met-by-the-realization-i

*** // ARTHUR’S POV // ***

He went out after it got dark. It was raining and he was glad he had the big jacket, he found in the apartment.

But he couldn’t wear those clothes forever, it had already been a few days. Washing them in the small shower cabin was bad enough in itself, but without any kind of laundry detergent it didn’t really have any effect and he hated wearing clothes that weren’t clean.

He hated BEING not clean. Without any kind of soap or let alone a fricking toothbrush, he couldn’t even keep up the most essential standards of hygiene and it was getting to him.

He needed supplies, but most shops were already closed. This situation was troublesome.

He wanted his face paint. And he wanted his suit. But going out in bright daylight just wouldn’t do, the police looking for him everywhere. He needed at least some sunglasses and a cap or the like, to successfully hide his identity.

His paranoia had every reason to be. The suspicion of the police hunt confirmed, when he stood outside of a shabby bar that had a television inside, which he spotted through the window from the street.

Breaking news. His escape from Arkham and his face all over the screen. He had to think of something fast.

For this evening though, he had other plans than a shopping trip. He was on his way to Pogo’s.

It was risky, but if he stayed in the shadows, the chances were good for it to work. The gun was well placed in his waistband and he was giddy with the task at hand.

He would find you. And he’d do anything he could to do that. The prospect of having you back was much more important than food or clean clothes or anything else.

If, and that was a big IF, he got caught, he’d just break out again. They’d make it harder than before, but he would manage, no matter what happens. They better not get in his way again, or he’d make sure they would regret it.

You and him used to go to Pogo’s a lot, mostly evening dates, even before his own appearance on stage.

You were the one that encouraged him to take the next step and try performing himself, instead of just sitting in the audience.

You had taken a look at his notebook from time to time and you were the first one to find his jokes genuinely funny, no matter how dark they were. You always used to say, they were even funnier because they were speaking the truth.

Hm. No thinking about that now, though. He had majorly enough of dealing with melancholic memories of the two of you.

He wanted the real deal, you back in his arms. And he didn’t care if he had to get rid of whoever took you away from him.

He just had to think about the guy that might have snatched you away and he started fuming with jealousy in a second. It made him feel red hot rage in his stomach, his jaw tense and his teeth clenching. His nails were buried deep in his palms, which were balled into fists, when he walked down a back alley, leading to the club.

Alright. He took a deep breath, forcefully relaxing.

He wasn’t sure how he was going to approach this. He couldn’t just go inside and ask people. But he needed to ask somebody. If he managed to seclude one person outside, it would be sufficient. Best choice being somebody who came there often.

You two were there quite regularly, so someone needed to remember your faces, being able to tell him, if you had been around lately.

When he approached the building, he chose to take a stand around a corner by the back entrance. The people performing used to come out the back to have a smoke.

He waited, and about two people came outside, not noticing him standing in the shadows with the hood over his head. They were useless, he didn’t know them. About twenty minutes passed, and suddenly he got lucky.

It was the man that had performed before him back then. He didn’t like him. But he was a regular on Pogo’s stage. So when he took out a cigarette and lit it, Arthur decided to approach him from behind.

Knowing, that physically he wouldn’t necessarily overpower him, he took the weapon out of his waistband, pushing it against the back of the mans head, holding him at gunpoint, his other hand grabbing the back of his shirt with a dull kind of pain radiating from his still injured thumb.

The man dropped his cigarette in shock, reflexively pulling both arms up to signal his attacker he wouldn’t fight back, the cigarette carelessly dropped in front of his feet.

‘Walk over there.’ Arthur instructed the shaking man, pushing him in the direction of a side alley, that was barely lit.

’M-Man, please! Please don’t shoot me!’, the man squealed, getting hysteric, not moving fast enough for Arthur’s taste.

'I said MOVE.’, he reinforced somewhat louder, the man gasped and staggered insecurely towards the alley.

Having him where he wanted, out of sight for any other people at the back entrance or walking down the street, he pushed him against the wall, turning him around forcefully, now grabbing his throat and moving the gun to his forehead.

'Please, we can talk about this, whatever you want man, I… Uhm. Arthur? Arthur Fleck!’, he got louder again and Arthur didn’t like it one bit, making his disapproval known by squeezing the man’s throat painfully.

'Shush, now don’t be like that. I’m happy you remember me, it serves the purpose. But shut it. Unless you answer my questions I want you to keep your filthy mouth shut. Do you understand?’, he asked.

He remembered the man’s performances on stage and more times than not he was a chauvinistic asshole, getting laughs out of sexism. He didn’t like the man.

The man nodded, not able to say a word with Arthur’s hand still on his throat.

'So, now tell me. You remember me, which is not surprising. Do you recall me coming here with a woman and what she looked like?’, he questioned him, easing his grip on the mans throat a bit.

'Y-Yeah, the beautiful one, I remember her.’, he stuttered.

'Oh yeah, beautiful she is. But she’s mine and you better watch that mouth of yours. Have you seen her lately?’, he asked, his jealousy flaring up again.

'U-Uhm, no, I don’t think so. I w-would have noticed her, for sure!’, he stammered, Arthur pushing his head against the wall hard with the revolver in his hand.

'Hm. Too bad.’, he said in a dark tone of voice. It was frustrating and he was getting impatient.

'I was hoping you could help me out in this regard, you see, this is a mission of love and I feel entitled to say, it’s more important than your pathetic ass life.’, his voice became more conversational and light, hoping the man would get the hint.

'Man, really, I haven’t seen her, I’m not lying! Please, don’t kill me, just, p-please!’, he begged, now openly crying.

'I’m trying really hard to believe you, but something’s keeping me from just walking away and letting you live. Maybe it’s the fact that I don’t like you. Or maybe it’s just because you’re not funny. Yeah, I think that might be it.’

'Oh, shit, please! Take anything you want, just please don’t kill me! I got a girlfriend waiting for me at home!’, he explained, cowering in Arthur’s grip, his hands loosely held in front of him as an attempt of defense.

Arthur felt bad about that girl. It sure was a shitty fucking job to live with this idiot.

'What do you have to offer?’, Arthur asked with an arched eyebrow, skeptical.

The man immediately emptied his pockets, protruding a wallet and a pack of cigarettes with a lighter. The man opened his wallet then, showing Arthur the pathetic content, not seeing more than about 50 dollars.

'I’ll take the cigarettes. As for the money, I’d highly advice you to buy a nice gift for your girl, maybe some flowers or treat her for dinner. She’s probably having a hard time with you, I can tell.’, he said. Stealing money really wasn’t his cup of tea.

Pocketing the cigarettes the man offered him, sighing, he said 'So. I’d tell you to just shut it about our little encounter, but somehow I don’t think you are the type to listen. I’m afraid I gotta help with that.’

'What? No, I won’t tell on you, I swear, just let me leave, pl-’, he was interrupted by Arthur hitting the man on the temple with the handle of the revolver, having him drop like a bag of potatoes.

'Yeah, of course you won’t.’, he mumbled, dragging the man’s unconscious body behind a nearby dumpster.

He won’t rely on people. He just couldn’t afford to trust anyone, let alone a cowardly asshole like this.

He took one cigarette out of the pack, lighting it and taking a long drag, immediately beginning to cough. It pulled an amused laugh out of him. At the hospital he wasn’t allowed to smoke and the last cigarette he had was at the Murray show, so of course his body would complain after all that time.

He started walking back, taking a different path than on the way there, his paranoia breathing down his neck.

Passing a small grocery store that was just closing, he spotted a sticker on the shop’s window, showing a green smiley face.

Small stores like this weren’t rare in Gotham, big shopping malls and discounters more prominent in the more wealthy parts of the city. Mostly these small ones were run by families or just one person, employing only one or two other people, if any.

There was nobody within eyesight, but he figured, he could take the risk of taking a look inside and buying a few things, even if he had to threaten the staff.

He went inside, a bell ringing at his arrival. He immediately went for some shower gel and the like, packing anything he could use in a small basket, he had picked up at the entrance.

Laughter was bubbling up in his chest. He felt ridiculous grocery shopping like this, while the whole city was going crazy about him. It made him giggle.

Having packed a few things, he moved to the cashier counter, nobody in sight. A door to the back of the shop was open and he tried making himself noticeable with calling out for someone.

'Geeze, we’re closing right now! How about you come back tomorrow?!’, a vexed voice from the back yelled.

He continued to stand at the counter, lazily leaning on it after he placed all things on top of it. He could wait. The guy was coming back sooner or later, probably suffering a heart attack anyway. So, no rush.

When five minutes passed without action, Arthur pushed back the hood of his jacket and decided to have a little chat with the man. He walked to the door, leaning on it, sighing.

'I SAID WE’RE CLOSING!’, the man yelled in an angry voice, bent over a couple of boxes, rummaging through products.

'I bet, you’ll make an exception for me.’, Arthur said in a calm voice, a smile on his lips.

The man turned around and Arthur could make out the exact second realization dropped on him. His eyes getting bigger and his mouth agape in awe.

But he really didn’t expect the man to immediately start smiling, pulling him inside the room and closing the door.

Somewhat surprised, he looked at the man, his hand wandering to his waistband, expecting an attack.

'You’re HIM right?? The Joker! Arthur Fleck! Oh my goodness, I would have never expected to meet you in person!’, the man said, now excited. Arthur was stunned by his reaction, his brows shooting up.

'You’re not gonna shoot me, right?’, the man asked with a nervous giggle. 'I could help you out!’

'Wait. What the hell are you talking about??’, Arthur asked, pretty much dumbfounded by what was happening.

'You only escaped the nuthouse recently, so maybe you didn’t know, but there are LOTS of people in the city supporting you. We can’t do it all out in the open, the cops are going after anyone doing that. But I’m so glad you came to my store! You’re lucky, man!’, he said, beaming at Arthur.

'Oh. Uhm. Alright? I guess… So, actually, you know, I just wanted to buy some groceries, I take it I won’t have to threaten you to go along with it?’, Arthur asked, still totally taken aback by the positive energy the man was displaying.

'Yeah, of course, no problem! My name is Johnny by the way.’, he held out a hand to him and Arthur took a good look at him while he shook it.

He was in his mid twenties, maybe even younger. His hair was short, blonde and he looked… remarkably innocent. If he had to estimate, he would say he was a college dropout.

'You should probably pull that hood back up, so nobody spots you from the window. I don’t have a lot of costumers, but you can never be too careful, right?’, he said, as he was cashing the stuff.

Arthur, did what he suggested. 'So is this your business?’, he asked Johnny.

'Yeah, it was my dad’s, but he died a year ago in a shooting and my mom left us when I was very young, so all I had left was this shop. I always used to help my dad out in here, so when he died, I figured I’d run the place from now on. It’s barely enough to make a living, but it’s my home.’, Johnny, rambled then, in a weirdly good mood.

'That sounds horrible.’, Arthur said, once again noticing how other people had difficult fates to accept as well. He just seemed so young and what this city did to people like him was just terrible.

'You could say that, yeah, but I really try to stay positive. And after what you did a while back, a lot has changed. It’s not only me feeling like that, you know?’

'I don’t really care about the city.’, Arthur admitted, knowing he would probably crush the young man’s hope.

'You don’t have to. But you made a whole lot of sense and awfully many people could relate to what you said about not being noticed and well, it was kind of freeing.’, he said, a gentle smile on his face.

'Also I shot people.’, Arthur deadpanned, while he handed him the money.

He felt like Johnny was idealizing him and it felt bad. He seemed like a good guy and he didn’t want him to get into trouble. Johnny was staring at him now, looking a little troubled.

'Y-Yeah, that you did!’, Johnny laughed nervously. He leaned over the counter after he handed Arthur the bag with his groceries and he looked up at him, suddenly a determined expression on his face.

Arthur wasn’t sure how he could look at him as an innocent child just seconds ago, now he seemed much more shady.

'So, Arthur listen… I don’t know what you wanna do now, but I could support you in some ways. I know a whole lot of other people, salesmen like me and they’d be happy to help you out you know? If you need anything, just say the word, I’m here all week, you can always come by.’, he explained.

'Like what?’, Arthur asked, not being sure what Johnny was offering exactly.

'You know, things like ammo and guns. And really anything else. I can make it happen.’, he said.

'I need a new suit. Also hair dye and face paint.’, Arthur said, observing Johnny’s reaction, who suddenly beamed at him with a wide smile, laughing.

'I figured, you’d want that! I can manage, you just have to tell me your measurements. An old friend of my dad who joined me in the night of the riots is a tailor, maybe you even wanna meet him personally?’, Johnny offered.

'Yeah, I’d really like that.’, Arthur said with a sinister smile on his face. 'You were at the riots?’

'Yeah, front row. We managed to pay my shit ass landlord a visit and burned his car. The rent for the shop is much too high and I wanted him too feel that. Also I was there when your police ride crashed. Man, when you turned around on that cop car with that bloody smile on your face I had the best chills possible, it was amazing!’, he exclaimed excitedly.That made Arthur chuckle.

Things were starting to look a lot better for him. The encounter at Pogo’s was less than promising, but now he at least at access to any supplies he might need and that took a lot of worry off of his shoulders. And he also got a new ally, if he might say so.

'I’m looking forward to work with you, Johnny. See you around.’, Arthur said his goodbye, leaving an excited Johnny behind, starting on the way back to his hideout.

*** // READER’S POV // ***

'Thank you and have a nice day!’, you said politely, a smile on your face.

The customer left with his coffee-to-go and you turned around to wipe the counters. It was morning and you had started work about an hour ago.

Today you worked with Carmen and Benjamin, which all your co-workers called Benji, so you did it as well. He was nice and it was pleasant working with him.

Carmen was busy preparing dishes, so you told him to stay at the counter to take orders, while you cleaned the tables. Today was a good day, lots of customers and a really pleasant atmosphere, no rude comments or advances yet (which happened more often than you liked).

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you were almost happy. This job was very becoming to your overall well-being. At least that’s what Mrs Parker told you. She supported your choice of workplace and was ecstatic to hear about your new job.

For her it seemed hard to understand that you didn’t feel too good about not knowing anything about your life before the accident. She kept reminding you of all the good things that you had now, always staying in the present.

You had told her about the encounter you had the other day with that woman and how it had left you brooding the whole night. You couldn’t stop thinking about how weird it was and your emotions regarding her confused you.

Mrs Parker said, it could also just be a likeness to somebody you once knew, but what the woman had said, kept nagging in the back of your mind.

She had said, you haven’t been around lately. Weird. She must have known you, you were certain.

You didn’t tell Mrs Parker about your idea to visit her again. She would have only tried talking you out of it and you could do without that reaction. She wouldn’t understand anyways, she wasn’t the one who had lost her memory.

You had just swiped the last table, taking a few used dishes with you on a plate, when the news came on.

The screen hung under the ceiling in one corner of the cafe and you were walking back to the counter while you listened to the news halfheartedly.

They said something about an escaped murderer, named Arthur Fleck, alias the Joker.

While hearing that name something in you snapped and you stood frozen in place, dropping the plate, which resulted in the dishes shattering at your feet.

Your eyes went to the screen, which showed an image of the man. He wore messy clown-makeup, blood smeared all over his face and he had green hair on the mugshot.

What bothered you most were his eyes.

And the smile.

You stopped breathing and gawked at the picture, until Benji called out to you.

'Jeannie! Are you alright? What happened?’, he asked in a worried tone. He held you at your shoulder, snapping you out of whatever trance you had worked yourself into.

Tears were pooling in your eyes, your mouth open in shock. Customers were staring at you and it was all too much.

'N-no, I don’t feel so good. I… Excuse me for a second!’, you said hurriedly, pushing past him and running for the back entrance.

The cold air hit your face and you noticed you were starting to hyperventilate. You sank down at the brick wall, pulling your legs to your chest, burying your face in your hands.

What the hell was that all about? Your hands were shaking and you couldn’t make out what of all that had caused your reaction.

Maybe it was the clown-thing itself? The other day you had that encounter in the park with a clown, that left you feeling horrible as well.

But you didn’t feel scared. You just felt terrible and your heart ached, the tears now flowing down your face, while you tried desperately to control your breathing. Dizziness came upon you and the headache wasn’t far behind.

The door next to you opened and Benji came out, kneeling down in front of you.

'Are you okay? Jeannie, can you hear me?’, he said calmly, touching your knee to get your attention.

'I-I don’t know what’s wrong! I just saw that n-news report on TV and I don’t know why this…’, you tried to say, your voice troubled and broken. You looked at him and he didn’t laugh or anything, he was only worried it seemed.

'Jeannie, this looks like a panic attack. My brother used to have those a lot when he was younger. Try breathing deeply.’, he instructed. You really tried. But you couldn’t shake the bad feeling.

’D-do you know anything about that? I mean the breakout. Who is that man?’, you asked.

'Well, it has been a few months, but that guy shot a man on live television and three others in a subway. He wore that clown makeup on the show and called himself Joker. He obviously tried to be a comedian or something. The whole city went crazy because of him, the day of his appearance on TV riots started in the city and it took a few weeks until the city came back to normal. He was admitted to the Asylum that same night.’, Benji explained.

'I don’t know why I’m feeling like this right now. I didn’t even know about this.’, you said.

'What do you mean you didn’t know about it?’, Benji asked skeptically.

You hadn’t told your colleagues about your situation, because you didn’t want it to be a topic at work.

But Benji was nice enough and you decided to explain to him, that you had woken up in the hospital after a car accident and had lost all of your memory from before.

'Geeze, that’s horrible, I wish you had told me earlier. But it certainly explains, why you have no idea about who he is and what happened at that time in the city. He’s a murderer, maybe that just got to you.’, he mumbled.

'I don’t know. I don’t really feel scared, it’s just…’, a sudden jolt of pain shot through your head and you flinched.

'Jeannie, you can’t keep working like this. I don’t want you to pass out or anything. You mentioned, your injuries are still healing and I’m worried, it’ll get worse if you don’t take a proper rest. I think you should go home for today.’, he admitted.

'No, I can’t just leave. I don’t wanna leave you two here alone.’, you argued.

'Please don’t worry about it. I’ll just call Carla, she’s free most of the time and it’s likely she can take your shift for today. I’ll explain to the boss, I just want you to be okay.’, he said.

It was awfully sweet of him and you felt relieved, that you didn’t have to pressure yourself in continuing to work in this state.

'Thank you, Benji… I’ll make it up to you, I promise!’, your breathing had come back to normal by now, although the headache still hadn’t let up.

'I’ll remind you.’ Benji said with a smile. 'Now come on, let’s get your stuff.’, he stood up and reached out a hand to help you up.

Standing you felt another wave of dizziness approaching and you had to support yourself on your co-worker not to fall down.

*

You walked through the park on your way home, as usual. The fresh air and the prospect of a hot shower made you feel better already.

You wouldn’t be able to do much today, you could tell. So resting it was and it was a good thing that you had purchased a TV from your first salary, you could put on a movie and drink some tea.

You walked around a corner, looking down at the floor, daydreaming, when you collided with somebody all of a sudden.

Taking a step back, you looked up and saw a skinny man, wearing sunglasses and a cap, brown locks hanging down the sides of his forehead and neck.

He looked at you, obviously startled.

'Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.’, you said, excusing yourself and trying to walk past him.

He grabbed your arm then, pulling you back and forcing you to stop.

'Y/N?!’, he asked, taking off his sunglasses. His eyes were a deep shade of green and he looked at you with a shocked expression.

'What? No, you’re probably mistaking me for somebody else. Sorry.’, you said.

Only now, something about his face struck you, while you both were staring at each other.

He suddenly grabbed you by your shoulders.

'Stop playing dumb! Why did you leave me??’, he almost yelled at you, now getting angry.

You only continued staring at him, not even really hearing what he said then, as he continued to yell and shake you, his hands grabbing your shoulders hard.

His eyes. You lost yourself in those eyes. They were so full of pain and emotion. His face struck you as oddly familiar and you didn’t know why. You felt weird and speechless.

And then his scent hit you, sweet and musky and just utterly delicious and you felt dizzy again, your heart starting to race.

Your sight was starting to blur and you began to panic, your breathing picking up.

Unmoving, he held you and suddenly he stopped talking, only staring back at you. His face became all soft, his eyebrows creasing in sorrow and his eyes were shimmering with tears.

You didn’t feel like yourself anymore. Everything was dull and you couldn’t hear any noises of your surroundings anymore.

There was only him.

'Y/N?’, he asked in a whisper.

You moved one hand up to his head, taking off the cap, revealing brown hair, with a faint green tinge.

You suddenly felt his hand on your cheek, pulling you close, your noses almost touching now, his scent overwhelming.

Green hair… That man. He was the one you saw on the news earlier. The panic now surging through you full force, you pushed him away forcefully, your expression one of shock and fear.

You tried to turn around to start running, but he grabbed you and pulled you back.

Then you started screaming. You called out for help, which obviously startled him, as he let go of you and looked around himself in a hurry.

As soon as he let go, you bolted.

Your pulse was up in your throat and you could hear the blood rush in your ears. You didn’t stop running until you were at your apartment building.

As soon as you closed the apartment door behind you, you fell down on all fours, starting to cry in earnest.

Sobbing loudly, you layed down on the floor, curling up into a ball.

You had no idea, who that man was.

The green hair. Was he really the one you saw on the news earlier? You didn’t recognize him. But then again, you wouldn’t know, if you knew him. You cursed your lost memory while you laid there on the hard floor.

You couldn’t keep yourself from remembering the name he called you. And his scent.

Both accompanied you, while you slowly stopped crying and drifted off into sleep on your cold apartment floor, exhausted and shaken to the core.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is processing your encounter with him and plans on what to do next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by: Sagyunaro on Tumblr  
> https://sagyunaro.tumblr.com/post/188879565007/prompt-for-anyone-wishing-to-write-it
> 
> Find this fic on my Tumblr Blog: JLovesBats  
> https://jaylovesbats.tumblr.com/post/189484815566/chapter-9-so-i-was-met-by-the-realization-i

*** // ARTHUR’S POV // ***

He closed the apartment door behind him, slowly. Just standing there, catching his breath for minute.

It felt like his brain was too slow to keep up with his emotions and he had to calm down, he couldn’t think clearly.

His heart was beating like crazy. The hand that had touched your face was still tingling. The world didn’t seem real anymore and everything felt like a dream.

He lifted his arm to his head to take off the cap, taking a look at the dirt on it. It stuck there after you had dropped it, when you ran away.

Touching it delicately with shaking hands, he let his fingers run over the side of the cap you touched.

He froze in the movement and after a few seconds he let it fall to the floor in front of him. Another breath, staring at nothing. Moving was hard. He pushed some loose strands of hair out of his face, his breathing still labored.

You had briefly touched his hair as well. His hand lingered there a second. Static in his ears.

His feet started moving slowly in the direction of the couch, but he fell attempting the second step, his knees giving away. He landed on all fours, crashing hard on his hands, hissing in pain because of his broken thumb.

Only then did he notice, that tears were running down his face. Painful laughter was bubbling up in his chest, while he started to sob uncontrollably, and he felt reminded of the moment he first read the file about Penny. He couldn’t take this anymore.

He sat down, leaning on a nearby wall, letting it all out. He couldn’t keep it down any longer, this was just too much. He couldn’t understand how this had gone so horribly wrong.

Sobbing and laughing loudly now, he pulled himself up with some effort and walked to the bathroom shakily, taking the little bottle of your perfume and returning to the living room, taking a seat on the couch. He felt devastated.

Spraying the perfume on one of the couch cushions, he abandoned the bottle on the floor and layed down, hugging the pillow tight to his face and breathing in deeply, letting the events of the day play back in his mind.

*

_‘Oh, and one more thing Hank.’, he said after the man had taken his measurements. Arthur pulled your wedding dress out of a plastic bag, he brought with him._

_He had noticed the dress had suffered a few blood stains after his encounter with the police officers in your apartment and he wanted it to be as perfect and pure as it had been on the day you had worn it._

_'Do you think, there is any chance of getting these stains out?’, he asked the man._

_Hank Stevens was the tailor Johnny had connected him to. He was a middle aged, heavy man, that had an astoundingly good taste in fashion, wearing nothing less than the finest fabric and a pair of dress shoes going along with his perfectly fitting suit._

_Today Arthur had passed by his shop to give his new suit in order. He also found some new clothes in the store, finally some things that fitted him and which were more to his likings than the shabby, worn clothes he found, that hung off of him like rags._

_He immediately changed into one of the new sweaters and a pair of soft slacks with leather shoes, adding a thick dark blue jacket and a scarf, abandoning the old clothes all together. He took a full set of underwear and socks with him as well._

_Hank had gasped, when he saw him entering his shop in the clothes he wore, even before he knew who he was, immediately taking him to the back, while he was commenting on his poor choice of clothes._

_He was surprised, that the man had taken it so well, when Arthur revealed his identity to him. But Hank immediately explained to him, that Johnny had informed him beforehand and that he had expected Arthur every day since. He seemed excited, giddy with the task at hand, obviously being proud of being the Joker’s personal tailor from now on._

_Arthur was beyond satisfied with the mans work. They sat down, debating for over an hour about fabric and fit of the new suit, as well as accessories. Arthur had always liked to wear nice clothes despite the lack of money, looking neat no matter the occasion. And having somebody actually share his infatuation with the topic made him feel happy._

_He bought the last suit in the costume shop, he had once bought his Carnival outfit in. It was cheap and looked decent enough, but not nearly perfect._

_The new suit would look much more fancy, although he kept his color scheme intact. It was a three-piece suit, the silky fabric a lot finer, a slightly darker shade of wine red and the fit hugging his body in all the right places, instead of being just standard size, which always tended to be unfitting in some places._

_Hank had offered him to tailor three identical suits, Arthur only having to pay two of them. It was too good to be true. Then he always had a spare one, if one had to be cleaned or repaired._

_Along with the suits, he had ordered a handful of green dress shirts, a belt, a pair of gloves and two pairs of dress shoes._

_The money he found under the floor boards was probably meant as retirement savings, it was more than enough to pay for everything and also last him the next few months._

_Hank took a good look at the fabric of your wedding dress, while Arthur looked around the shop some more. It was around noon, but Hank had hung up the closed sign and shut the window blinds after Arthur appeared, not wanting anyone to interrupt their interaction._

_'Shouldn’t be a problem, blood stains are a daily issue in the local laundry business. A friend of mine works in the field and I give him orders regularly. He’ll manage, he’s the best.’_

_'Please tell him to treat it with care, it’s important to me.’, Arthur said, his voice melancholic._

_'I didn’t know you had a wife.’, Hank mumbled, still inspecting the dress closely._

_'HAVE. I have a wife. We’re still married.’, Arthur explained, a little vexed. Hank looked up in surprise._

_'Well, then. Do you want me to maybe improve it a bit?’_

_'What do you mean?’_

_'It’s pretty cheap quality, the seams are loose and the fabric is tearing on the inside. I could repair it or give you a whole new dress, looking like this one but better.’, Hank offered, looking at him curiously._

_'Hm. No. No new dress. Stitch it up as good as possible. But I want it to stay the same.’_

_'I understand. Some pieces of clothing are worth more than money can buy, just because of their history or the people they belong to.’, Hank mumbled, smiling gently._

_'Yes, that’s true…’, Arthur said, lost in thought. He pulled himself together and grabbed the few articles he had spotted, while Hank inspected the dress. ’_

_Add these as well, please.’, he said, putting down a pair of sunglasses and a cap on the counter._

_'Sure. Let me think…’, Hank inspected the notes he took during Arthur’s visit, adding it all up. 'I’ll probably be ready by the end of the week, it’s Monday now, but I’ll put this first. You can stop by on Friday afternoon to pick everything up.’, he said, Arthur already paying what was needed and a good amount extra._

_'Thank you, Hank. I’m really grateful to have an ally like you.’, Arthur said, extending one hand to him._

_'No problem Arthur, it’s an honor, really.’, he said, grabbing his hand and shaking it enthusiastically. 'I’m glad to work with you. If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to give me a call or stop by anytime.’, he said, a beaming smile on his face, handing Arthur a business card of his._

*

Putting on the sunglasses and the cap, Arthur had left the shop with a bag full of clothing, actually delighted by his new acquaintance.

Although the turn the conversation took at the end had left him a little sad. He was thinking about you again and how he could find you in this chaotic city.

Taking in the busy crowds on the streets, he wondered if it was even possible to find you at all. Maybe you had moved to another city, with whoever it was that had taken you away from him…

Lost in thought, he walked, not really noticing his surroundings anymore, while his way back to the apartment led him through the park. He was staring into nothing, his disguise keeping anyone from realizing, who the person was that passed them, as well as giving him a little privacy, while his emotions danced over his face.

It was actually a beautiful sunny day, people and children living their happy life all around him, but it could have been rainy and dark for all that he cared, his mood couldn’t have gotten any worse.

He felt like he was secluded in a bubble, much like he did all the past years before he met you. Not seen, not noticed by anyone, not participating in things other people seemed to find joy in.

He had to forcefully remind himself, that he was not the plain and shy Arthur anymore. Not invisible anymore. He tried to summon up the feeling of the evening of the Murray Show. When he had truly found himself. But it wouldn’t work somehow…

He was walking down a path framed by trees on both sides, losing their colorful leaves in the chilly breeze.

Finally looking up, frowning, he spotted a woman approaching, looking exactly like you, some distance away, walking in his direction.

He was hallucinating for sure. But he didn’t find the strength to fight against it, figuring, it wouldn’t hurt to indulge this fantasy a little longer, only for the sake of it.

He had started having hallucinations of you about one week after you left, while he was still at Arkham. Since he got out, it only got worse, probably because he was off of any meds they had given him before. He hadn’t been having those while he was outside in broad daylight yet though, it had only happened while he was in his hideout.

He stood frozen in place, looking at the woman longingly, wishing it was you. Her hair was flying in the breeze, much like the leaves did and she seemed lost in thought. If he had to describe it, he would say it looked poetic. Like a piece of art.

His heart was aching with the deep desire to finally have you back in his arms. Maybe if he stood long enough, this hallucination would turn out to his wishes. Like a dream. He decided to stay where he was, continuing to stare at this dream wife, as long as he could.

Then he noticed, she didn’t stop. She was walking straight towards him, her head still hung low, looking at the path beneath her feet. He wondered, if he would catch a whiff of your scent as well, if she got any closer.

It had to be seconds now, until she turned into thin air. These hallucinations only lasted for as long as he didn’t try to touch you. Although he never learned not to try anymore. He always did.

The woman was only a few steps away from him now, her pace not lessening.

His heartbeat was starting to pick up in anticipation over what would happen, when she walked right into him.

He waited. It couldn’t get any worse than her disappearing, right?

And then she collided with him, hard.

He gasped in shock at the realization, that this hasn’t been another trick of his mind. She looked up, startled, staring at him.

And suddenly he forgot how to breathe.

She looked like you. The woman looked EXACTLY like you. The same hair, the same eye color, the same gentle features, even the same height.

He was stunned, his mouth hanging open in awe, while his heart was pounding against his ribs.

'Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.’, she said politely.

That voice. That voice was yours. It was you for real! In shock, he dropped the bag he had held before.

You were turning away, to walk past him, already having taken a step. It took him a second to process and he acted on instinct, as he grabbed your arm, pulling you back. He took off his sunglasses in a hurry, staring at you directly.

'Y/N?!’, he asked in breathless surprise, still not able to believe his eyes and ears.

'What? No, you’re probably mistaking me for somebody else. Sorry.’, you said with a startled expression on your face. Your eyes were wandering over his face, getting stuck while meeting his eyes.

This couldn’t be. He couldn’t be wrong. It was you and he would recognize you blindly, he had studied your face for hours, awake or asleep, in joy or in pain.

You were playing him. Obviously.

'Stop playing dumb! Why did you leave??’, he asked, yelling now, not able to keep his frustration and anger inside. He needed to know. Immediately.

Still not being sure about you just disappearing again, he grabbed your shoulders in a vice grip, making sure you couldn’t run or vanish into thin air.

He could feel the warmth beneath your clothes, a firm body. Still there. Not disappearing.

You didn’t answer. Instead you stared at him, obviously shocked. No. He wouldn’t accept this.

'Tell me! Y/N, talk to me! Why did you just leave? Where have you been and what did you do?’, he continued to question, all the things he had bottled up, making their way to the surface.

You still didn’t answer, only staring at him with a blank expression, eyes wide open.

But you didn’t look shocked anymore. You didn’t react in any way, you didn’t even move and it was driving him mad.

He resulted into shaking you by your shoulders, to get you to react, not knowing what else to do.

'How could you do that to me?! Tell me why! Answer me!!’, he tried again, feeling how tears came to his eyes. His hands gripping your shoulders were shaking now, only resulting in him intensifying his grip to an almost painful level.

Your gaze went down then, stopping at his chest, unfocused and confused, a frown pulling at the edges of your lips.

A few seconds passed, until he felt your body going rigid beneath his hands, your breathing picking up and your expression turning troubled.

Your eyes moved back up to meet his, conflicted and scared… He had scared you.

He could tell in the way your eyebrows furrowed and how you pulled your shoulders up to your neck. He never wanted to scare you and he was frustrated with himself for having done that. He didn’t want you to be scared.

But you leaned into him, your face slowly getting closer to his, your eyes seeking his, inspecting them, a puzzled look on your face.

Your body language wasn’t the one of a scared person. This wasn’t making any sense.

Breathing in, trying to calm himself down, your scent hit him like a wave, sending warmth to his belly and sparking his heart to race anew. He would recognize your scent anywhere. He could feel his knees going weak.

It was you.

And suddenly all his anger and frustration evaporated into nothing, much like his hallucinations did sooner or later. All questions forgotten. He looked at your face and he was holding you, he could feel you, you were right in front of him, looking at him, SEEING him.

He sighed heavily, leaving only warmth and sorrow behind. His grip was loosening and he felt the tears stinging in his eyes painfully.

'Y/N?’, he whispered, his voice cracking, devoid of any strength.

He hadn’t noticed that your arm had lifted, being too busy studying your face, until he felt your hand softly grabbing the cap and pulling it off of his head, faintly touching the hair that hung into his face with your fingers.

He felt himself melting at the touch, while you stared at his hair. This was just too cruel, too real and too wonderful all at the same time and he couldn’t keep himself from giving into the impulse of lifting one hand off of your shoulder and slowly cupping your cheek.

It felt so warm, your cheeks sporting a faint blush and you were still staring at him dazedly. He could see your long eyelashes and your full lips and only then did he notice, that you hadn’t pulled away, when he touched you.

Without thinking, he leaned forward, closer to you, until your scent became overwhelming and your nose was almost touching his. He tried pulling you closer by the side of your face, now touching it more firmly, but not any less gentle.

Arthur felt hypnotized and excited at the same time, at having you so close to him after all that time.

He wondered, if you would mind him kissing you, while he looked down at your full rosy lips, his body tingling with anticipation.

Only looking back at your eyes, he suddenly saw them widening in shock and he felt a jolt run through your body.

You jumped and pushed him away forcefully with both hands, his cap having fallen to the ground in the process.

All of a sudden, there was panic in your eyes, which moved frantically, while you turned away, attempting to run.

He was pulled out of the pleasant feeling from a few seconds ago in an instant, now stepping closer quickly, pulling you back in, a hand on your upper arm.

Why would you run? No. Why would you first stare at him like that and THEN run? He felt like the world was upside down and his head was spinning with all the thoughts and emotions he felt.

He was forcefully pulled out of his thoughts by hearing you utter a blood curdling, high-pitched scream, followed by crying out for help loudly, struggling in his grip to pull away.

He let go of your arm in surprise, turning his head, as a man yelled at him to stop, coming closer fast.

Looking back at you in a blink, he found you, already having put some distance between the both of you.

And then his body moved on autopilot, the adrenaline kicking in within seconds.

He grabbed the bag he had dropped and the cap, abandoned on the ground, while he already started bolting, putting it back on while moving.

He would have loved to follow you, every cell in his body told him to, but he would get busted if he didn’t make a run for it. No time to think.

The man had almost caught up to him and he couldn’t bother about putting back on the sunglasses, left in his pocket.

He had to run for dear life and that he did, leaving the yelling stranger behind.

*

Arthur felt a headache building behind his temples from having cried so hard. The cushion in his arms was a mess, completely soaked in tears. His heart was racing again.

He still didn’t understand what had happened, what your reaction was all about.

If you had left him for somebody else, you would have behaved rather uncomfortable, maybe avoiding him or getting angry and frustrated.

If you had left, because you were sad and lonely without him, you would have cried for sure.

But your expression gave absolutely no clear indication, as to why you did what you did. You stared at him with such a weird expression, for such a long time. And you haven’t answered any of his questions either.

Fuck. You didn’t even seem to recognize him. And you didn’t react to him calling your name either. As if you had forgotten him completely.

A new wave of anger was washing over him at the thought of you, having forgotten about the both of you so fast and obviously having started a new life without him, maybe even having been desperate enough to change names, so that he wouldn’t be able to track you down.

He was grounding his teeth, sitting up on the couch and leaving the cushion behind.

He decided it was enough with the moping. He wouldn’t leave it at this.

At least he knew for sure now, that you hadn’t left the city, although you had changed the apartment.

A plan was forming in his mind.

He figured, you’d probably have changed your workplace as well, if you didn’t want him to find you. But better be sure. Maybe they could give him some more information about you.

He decided to ask Johnny to go to your workplace and make sure about your employment situation.

And Arthur… He would prepare some more, still having some things left on his list to do and organize.

And also he figured, he should visit an old friend to catch up on things. Neighbours help each other out after all, right?


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is preparing for his new life as Joker, finally having anything needed, except from you. But that will soon change, he is sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was met by the realization I totally messed up the timeline of this fic with the actual time of the year the story of Joker took place.🤦🏼 Canonically it must have been winter already, by the time Arthur broke out of Arkham, but let’s just pretend it was not.😅 Sorry for that. Prepare for some smutty ass shit with this chapter.🙂😘
> 
> Prompt by: Sagyunaro on Tumblr  
> https://sagyunaro.tumblr.com/post/188879565007/prompt-for-anyone-wishing-to-write-it
> 
> Find this fic on my Tumblr Blog: JLovesBats  
> https://jaylovesbats.tumblr.com/post/189484815566/chapter-9-so-i-was-met-by-the-realization-i

*** // ARTHUR’S POV // ***

The bags would have been too heavy, carrying them all through Gotham, so he figured he’d take the train instead.

He just came back from picking up the clothes Hank had finished working on today, as well as your wedding dress and was even met with an additional gift, not having to pay extra.

Hank said, he couldn’t believe they forgot to talk about a coat, going with his suit, putting it off to having been too excited, when he first met Arthur.

It was getting colder by the day and winter was approaching mercilessly in the city, the leaves starting fade at an alarming rate and today the air sported a biting chill and small puffs of breath were visible while being outside.

So Arthur was really happy, at least one of them thought practically in that regard. He always tended to freeze more quickly than others, because of his thin built.

He wouldn’t have minded if he did, while wearing his attire, but if he wanted to commit to this, he could just as well go all the way. And it was a gift after all, so no loss.

Hank had tailored the coat according to his measurements, sporting a dark rusty color, the fabric pretty much resistant against weather and dirt, going down to his knees.

Together with the suit, the whole look was amazing. He had tried on the complete outfit when he met Hank, to check, if all fit according to plan and yes.

God, yes it did. Arthur felt like he had never looked that good in his whole life.

The suit was hugging his edges in all the right places, the smooth fabric stretching over his long legs while moving, the silky shirt practically gliding over his skin as he shifted.

The suit jacket accentuated his thin frame and line of shoulders, while sitting snug around his waist. The shoes were the most comfortable ones he had ever worn, the leather flexible and stable at the same time.

The only thing bothering him was the weight of the suit jacket and the coat. He put it down to him having lost some more muscle mass while being in Arkham and Hank just laughed at the remark, promising he’d get used to it in no time and Arthur shrugged it off.

He already felt excited about getting ready. He wouldn’t lose any more time. He missed the feeling of wearing his full costume and make up. Finally, he had all his things together.

Well, except for one thing. He’d have to stop by Johnny’s shop before he went home.

*

Entering the door of his apartment, he put down the clothing bags and immediately went to the kitchen, spreading out the contents of the large duffel bag, he had received from Johnny. A broad smile formed on his lips, inspecting the arsenal.

He had ordered him to get some weapons and supplies, when they last met. And this was more than he expected to be honest.

He had told Johnny to go for a second gun, a few packages of bullets and a knife. What he got, exceeded that expectation by far.

Arthur really had no idea how a guy like Johnny could get his hands on things like this. He must have had connections to the worst people of Gotham, although he looked like the most innocent guy in the world.

In front of him on the kitchen counter he had three different types of knifes in sizes from tiny to lethal, laying in front of him.

One was small enough to slip it down his sleeve, the butterfly knife would come in handy as well, he was sure. The largest one looked like a big hunting knife, he wasn’t sure he would make use of it though, it was more bold to carry around, the risk of getting caught increasing…

What was he even thinking?

He still had a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact, that he was now a wanted criminal.

If he went out in full Joker attire, he WOULD be recognized for sure and he had to take a stance other than hiding and running all the time.

He was going to be SEEN by everyone. Excitement flooded him at the thought, that nobody would ever be able to ignore his existence anymore, like people always tended to do before. So being armed to the teeth was a good thing.

Furthermore he received a machine gun, two more revolvers, a shotgun, all with extra ammo and about ten hand grenades.

Going along with it, he spotted some non-lethal weapons, like brass knuckles, a baseball bat, a taser and about a whole mechanical kit with several screwdrivers and hammers.

Arthur stared at the arsenal of weapons some more and suddenly it really hit him, what kind of person he had become. There was no going back and he didn’t want to, but processing his development was hard to fully accept and wrap his mind around.

The other day, at your apartment, he shot those two police guards, he didn’t even know, just because they were trying to arrest him.

Everything that had happened before the Murray Franklin Show was different. It was either personal or self-defense. And this looked like he was soon going to be a mass murderer.

Taking a deep breath in, he found his resolution in thinking about what kind of city this was. What it had done to him and many other people. And he argued with himself, as he thought that nobody would get hurt, unless they decided to get in his way.

And he would get his way, that was for fucking sure. A grim expression took place on his features as he walked back to the living room, unpacking what he needed for getting ready. He took the makeup and the hair dye to the bathroom and decided to get started immediately.

While starting to bleach his hair, it truly sank in, that from now on, he wouldn’t be able to wander around the city as he did before. There would be no going back.

His hands shook with excitement and fear. He didn’t know, if it felt good or bad, his mind seemingly unable to decide.

And then it hit him like lightning. It has been like that before. When he went to Murray’s show, he felt like that as well.

That everything would change and he never expected to enjoy it as much, as he did that night. All the chaos around him, all the people seeing him and cheering him on. It was all he ever wanted and so much more.

Suddenly he realized though, that it wasn’t all that he wanted. His actions had let to you leaving him. His own wife left him, because…

Well, because of what? He couldn’t tell. You hadn’t answered him, when he questioned you the other day. He could only ponder, as to why you did what you did.

And you had known, he was changing. You knew he was a murderer. You had committed to this long before he did, him not fully getting the consequences of his actions at the time. But you did. You had been his anchor, while everything in his life was drifting apart.

And you had accepted him as Joker just as much as you had done with him as Arthur…

*

_‘Gotcha!, Arthur exclaimed with a cheeky grin on his lips, as you two were playing a game of cards, him laying down the Joker card, finishing the game._

_The orange evening sun shone through the windows of his apartment, decorating the room and your features in a warm glow._

_'Ah, hell! You beat me every time, Arthur! I begin to think I suck at playing card games. Sure you ain’t cheating?’, you said with an annoyed sigh, although you were smiling fondly._

_'I’m just lucky, that’s all.’. Arthur said with an amused lopsided grin, staring at the cards in front of him, especially at the Joker card. He always tended to have a ridiculous amount of luck, while picking up a hand of cards._

_'Well, maybe it’s because you always pick those damn wild-cards. It really beats me, how it’s even possible that not ONCE I had a Joker on my hand, ever. Not while playing with you. It’s frustrating.’ you said, while walking into the kitchen._

_Things had been much more calm since Penny was in the hospital and you tended to come over more often now, while before, you and Arthur mainly met up at your place, to grant you two some privacy._

_'Nah, don’t feel left out. After all you have the biggest Joker possible on your hand.’, Arthur yelled after you in joy, pointing at himself, while you watched him through the service hatch of the kitchen. It made you giggle._

_'You always get me by surprise, so I guess you could say you are a Joker.’, you explained with a chuckle, while starting to prepare dinner._

_Arthur remembered the other day, when he watched Murray’s show while visiting Penny in the hospital._

_And he became quiet all of a sudden. Murray had called him a Joker as well. And he felt embarrassed and angry as soon as he noticed, that his idol was making fun of him._

_With you though, it was different. You seemed to find something positive about that name and he liked it._

_He was deep in thought, his legs bouncing and his gaze empty, which tended to happen, when he was trying to come up with a clear thought. Talking to you had always helped him sort things out and find a solution to the problems at hand._

_'Sweety, come over here for a second.’, Arthur mumbled, his tone serious, still staring at nothing._

_When you sat down next to him, you must have noticed, something was bothering him, your hand immediately stroking his back for comfort._

_That’s when he looked up at you, smirking, pulling you into a fierce hug. And all of a sudden he leaned back to lay on the couch, with you on his chest, which had you laughing in an instant._

_'Tell me, Sweety… Would you bother, if I changed my name?’, he said, his fingers ghosting through your hair, while he looked deep into your eyes._

_Finding out about his past had shattered him to pieces and he once again remembered that the name Arthur Fleck had been nothing but a morbid joke all those years. There was nothing positive he connected to that name._

_You looked like you were considering it for a moment, then smiling back at him._

_'Arthur, you can literally choose any name you want. It’s totally relatable after what happened, that you would want to shed your old name and free yourself of everything it brought along.’_

_'You remember Murray called me a Joker as well the other day? When he showed my video on his show? Then I thought it was horrible. But hearing you call me like that is kind of pleasing, I have to admit.’, he said with a loving smile._

_'Yeah, I remember… Murray is horrible, I tell you every time. Your jokes are on a whole different level than his flat ass shit and it was so rude and terrible of him to make fun of you like that.’, you said, your expression showing disgust over the man, that had been Arthur’s idol for many years._

_'I like the name Joker though, would be a good stage name as well. It kinda sums up perfectly what I feel like.’, he looked at you with dazed uncertainty._

_'I like it. And you always make me smile, so I believe it fits you.’, you whispered, smiling at him gently._

_That brought a smile to his face. He wouldn’t have to go by Arthur anymore, if he didn’t want to. Of course, he was used to it and he didn’t mind you calling him like that._

_But the feeling of you, calling him a name that was originally his, managed to spark a warm feeling, surging through his stomach._

_'Also it goes quite well with your look, if you wanna pull it off with the green hair and the make-up.’, you said._

_Arthur smiled at you warmly. In moments like this he couldn’t quite believe he was lucky enough, to have a woman like you in his life, accepting everything he was without a hassle. Even understanding him and sharing his worldview. With you, he felt like he was really being seen for the first time in his whole life._

_'I guess, from now on I’ll call you J then!’, you exclaimed smirking cheekily, your eyes glowing, while you propped yourself up to straddle his waist and gently rolled your hips._

_He purred in content, the feeling of your hips rubbing against his immediately sending jolts down his spine and heat up his neck._

_'Would you like that?’, he asked with a raspy voice, smiling lewdly, taking in your form, his hands coming up to slowly stroke up the smooth skin of your thighs and higher to be placed on your hips and squeeze firmly._

_'Yeah, I think I would.’ A blush appeared on your face, while your hands roamed his naked chest. He only wore a pair of thin pajama pants and he enjoyed your hands on his skin, moving up and down slowly, grazing him with your nails, which made shivers run down his body, him releasing a low moan, while closing his eyes in bliss momentarily._

_In a surge of impulsiveness, he pulled you down by your neck, kissing you passionately, making you gasp softly._

_His hands gripped your hair tightly, pulling you in even more closely, while your body was rubbing against him in fluid and rhythmic motions._

_'J. I love you.’, you said in between kisses, your hot breath whispering over his skin, as you mumbled the words into his ear gently._

_It felt amazing to hear you say that. The name he chose just for himself. And for the world to call him from now on._

_And you using a nickname like that, calling him J, while he wouldn’t allow anybody else to do that, let a surge of possessive love and pride fill him._

_He sat up with you on top of him, while he gripped your thighs for leverage. Then he stood up, carrying you, pressed close to his chest. You squeaked out a laugh, while your legs and arms wrapped around him._

_He started kissing your neck passionately, sucking hickeys into your skin, which made you moan, while he slowly walked you both to the bedroom._

_Your hands were tangled in his hair and your scent and the soft moans leaving your throat, while you threw your head back, left Arthur immediately hard and needy._

_He layed you down on the bed gently, without a second thought taking up the space between your legs and pushing you into the mattress._

_Your bodies were rubbing against one another intensely, while Arthur started to kiss you deeply, your tongues dancing around each other._

_Your taste was driving him insane and he wanted to devour you, to taste your skin all over and give you bite marks._

_He had been so gentle, when you got to know each other and in the following time._

_But the events that occurred as of late had changed something essential in him, revealing his true self, without the hindrance of shame or embarrassment. He slowly started to be able to take what he wanted, without hesitating over insecurities._

_'J, please more…’, you whined breathlessly, your voice raspy from pleasure, while your hands moved to lay next to your head._

_You looked so open and vulnerable, just for him._

_A growl left his throat and he couldn’t keep control over his impulses anymore, so he went along with it._

_He knew you would speak up, if something bothered you and he decided to trust you in that regard, instead of making sure ten times over again._

_His reaction was fast and intense, he lifted himself up to his knees, spreading your legs before him, roaming his hands about the inside of your thighs._

_He gazed down at you and his eyes felt on fire with the view that was presented to him._

_Your eyes were half lidded, dazed with lust, obviously enjoying his touches, sighing softly, as you looked up at him, your plush lips swollen from his kiss, parted to reveal your labored breathing._

_He admired the shape of your legs, dressed in tight shorts, that would have made him rage with jealousy, if you were to wear them anywhere else but in front of him alone._

_Jealousy was something he had to learn how to deal with as well lately. It still only got worse and worse, the farther down the road he went._

_With this new feeling of being his true self, he discovered he didn’t like sharing. He had trouble even tolerating other men looking at you, red hot rage filling him instantly._

_He wouldn’t share you with anyone, ever again. You were his. And he wanted to show you._

_He bared his teeth at the possessive feeling in his chest, his jaw clenched together forcefully._

_He leaned down then, grazing his teeth over the fabric of your t-shirt’s nape, while you shivered beneath him, your breath hitching._

_His teeth broke the fabric, when he gripped your shirt roughly, tearing it apart in a fast and brutal motion, revealing the red lace underwear he loved so much._

_The sudden display of such raw behavior had you gasping in surprise._

_He thought you must have trouble processing, he wasn’t your soft and gentle Arthur anymore. Maybe you even felt a bit scared, but he couldn’t see any fear in your eyes, only longing and surprise. Excitement._

_He loved you deeply. But he also wanted you in a way he had never experienced before, or even if he did, he had never dared to admit it to himself before. It was about time to change that._

_His slender and strong hands roamed about your ribs, over your infinitely soft skin, finally reaching your chest, where he squeezed your breasts over the lace bra just right. Pleasuring and bordering on painful, finding just the right amount of pressure to make you writhe beneath him._

_Squeezing your nipples through the fabric made you restless, the texture of the lace only making the touch more intense._

_Your legs squeezed his waist, your hips seeking out contact to his heated body, while his lips were exploring your now almost bare chest, peppering kisses and little licks all over, hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin._

_Your legs felt cool against his sides and he decided to take one hand to let it wander over your barely covered thigh again. Your curves were just too inviting to him and he couldn’t resist._

_You grabbed his face then, leaning up slightly and pulling him up to meet your lips. Your feet had hooked behind his back, to reel him in even further and he knew you were desperate, but he wouldn’t tolerate this behavior tonight._

_Before your lips could meet his, he pushed you back down forcefully with a growl, grabbing your throat with one hand, grinding into you, his hard cock pressing up against your most sensitive area, making you release a satisfied and loud moan._

_'Not today, Sweety. It’s my turn. I wanna ravish you.’, he moaned in pleasure, his eyebrows drawn together in the most sinister and dark way possible, his green eyes glowing with want._

_You choked out a brief chuckle. 'God, Arthur, what’s going on with you…?’, you asked breathlessly, the smile on your lips tainted with pleasure, your lips quivering._

_'I have no idea.’, he said, his hand squeezing your throat harder, while he continued to grind into you heavily._

_Taking your breath away, he crashed his hot lips onto yours, his tongue diving deep into your wet mouth, making your head spin._

_Pulling away suddenly and sitting up once again, he hooked his hands behind your knees, pulling your legs in front of him and placing them straight against his chest and partly over his shoulders._

_He started pulling off your shorts in a rush, while kissing your calves messily with an open mouth._

_'Whatever it is, don’t you dare stop.’, you managed to say, while still catching your breath from his choking._

_Your words left him speechless and more determined than before, encouraging him to keep going and do even more._

_He could feel your whole body shaking in anticipation, while he pulled your shorts off of you, now leaving you exposed in only your red lace._

_You moved your arms to help him with the panties, obviously getting impatient._

_Taking both your hands in a vice grip, he bit down hard on your leg, making you hiss in pain momentarily, startled by his reaction._

_'Be a good kitten and do what I told you.’, he snarled heatedly, his voice deep and thick with dominance and want._

_You looked at him with wide eyes, obviously being at a loss of words, while you took a stuttering breath._

_'Yes?’, he asked, emphasizing his point, while one hand gripped your jaw, making you look directly at him._

_You only nodded shakily, while swallowing, your bared neck contracting, while sporting a good amount of purple hickeys._

_The expression on your face was riling him up more than anything ever had before, a mix of fear and pleasure and submission and want._

_'Good girl…’, he chanted, whispering, his voice low._

_He couldn’t wait anymore. He was so hard it hurt. Releasing his grip on your hands and face, he pushed down his pants, not even taking them off, starting to slowly stroke himself, while your legs were placed against his shoulders on either side of his head._

_He brushed his hard member against your panties a few times, which made him notice your wetness had stained the lace completely._

_The touch had you mewling and you started gripping the sheets, in desperate need for more friction. He decided the lingerie would stay on, he enjoyed it just a tad too much to see you in it._

_Pushing the panties sideways, he lined himself up with your entrance, his other hand rubbing your clit in slow intense circles._

_He was panting and you were no better on that front, having pulled one of your hands up to your lips in an attempt to muffle your noises._

_'No, Sweety, I wanna hear. Let me hear what I do to you.’, he commanded, while he suddenly felt your wetness surrounding his tip, making him stutter out a groan._

_He pushed into your hot tightness slowly, the both of you having to adjust to the overwhelming feeling._

_Inching in deeper, you still hadn’t moved your hand away from your mouth, so he decided to take it upon himself to move them. He wanted to hear you gasp, once he filled you out completely._

_He took both of your hands, entangling his fingers with yours, pushing them into the covers besides your head._

_You moaned shamelessly with nothing containing the noise and he purred at the sound._

_'Louder. I wanna hear you moan my name.’, he managed, his breath hitching at the feeling of now being completely shed inside of you._

_'Joker! Please, God, I can’t take it!’, you cried out, attempting to move your hips in little stutters._

_'Tell me what you need, Y/N.’, he groaned, looking directly at you, observing all the emotions showing on your face. You looked so beautiful, your head turning from side to side in pleasure, hair messed up, your lips now parted widely, panting._

_You turned to face him, your eyes opening once again, staring at him with tears running down your cheeks._

_'Move. Harder. Take me, please… Fuck me. I need you to fuck me, J. Please!’, you begged._

_Gods, how he enjoying you begging him for release. He started chuckling under his breath. This was more than he could have ever imagined and you were his. His alone._

_His hips started moving at a moderate pace, him paying no mind to going slow, having you adjust._

_You wanted to be fucked. Hard. So that’s what he would give you._

_He released your hands and moved your legs back to his sides, granting him better access to you, being spread out for him like that._

_Leaning down, he pulled your hair back, to make you bare your neck further and started sucking hard on your neck, biting down in need._

_You yelled out in pained pleasure, your back arching into him, his other arm moving around your waist to hold you close beneath him._

_He fucked you mercilessly now, drowning in your sounds and your wet heat, meeting him with every thrust and you kept moaning 'J’ and 'please’, over and over again._

_He was losing his mind with want._

_Pressing a hot, messy kiss to your open mouth, he sat back up again, deciding he wanted to watch you come undone under him._

_The position gave him more leverage and he managed to pick up his pace even further, while his hands were squeezing your hips painfully._

_'J, please, I need to…’, you choked out, your hands grabbing one of his, moving it up to your throat._

_He watched you in awe, only beginning to realize how much you indeed seemed to enjoy being taken like this._

_You trusted him fully and he wanted to reward you for it._

_Squeezing your throat with one hand, his other moved back to your clit, now rubbing it frantically, while he thrusted deep inside of you, mindless with want._

_You moaned loudly, your breath hitching and your nails clawing at his arm, making him bleed. The pain didn’t even really register to him, he rather liked it._

_'I want you to scream my name, when I make you cum…’, he instructed, panting, only resulting in your grip tightening around his arm, pulling it even closer, now choking you for real, cutting off any breath or sound leaving your throat._

_You would do it. He’d release his grip the moment you came._

_Sharpening the angle, he thrusted into you more forcefully, hitting your spot with every move._

_You started cumming in seconds and your walls were tightening around him, taking his breath away._

_He released his grip on your throat just enough for you to pull in air and do exactly as he said._

_Hearing you moan out his name loudly and feeling you cum around him, left him doing the same thing just a few seconds later, while you still rode out the waves of pleasure he had caused inside of you._

_He came deep inside you with a groan, his sight momentarily white with pleasure from the intensity of his orgasm._

_Collapsing on top of you, his head was resting on your red lace bra, while the both of you were trying to catch your breath._

_You were the one to break the spell over the both of you, starting to chuckle freely and lightly, still short on breath, your voice weak and raspy._

_Arthur turned his head up to look at you and you were crying tears of joy, as your hands came up to stroke his hair playfully._

_He had never been more happy in his whole life._

_'I love you, Y/N.’ He said, smiling, soon morphing into a carefree laugh, melting into yours._

_Until the both of you were a giggling, a breathless mess in tangled sheets, while the evening sun shone down on you warmly._

*

_Waking up in the middle of the night, Arthur noticed you both must have fallen asleep as you were, not even bothering about dinner._

_He shifted next to you, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling, lost deep in thought, as he remembered what he had planned to do, ever since he left Arkham after reading the file._

_She would be dead by tomorrow. There were no gentle or caring feelings left for the woman that had raised him, if he could even call it like that._

_She messed him up. She allowed for horrible things to happen to him, while he always just tried to please her._

_This was over now. He wanted to end it._

_Noticing movement next to him, you cuddled up closer to his chest, stroking his chest is soothing circles._

_'You’re gonna go to her, right?’, you murmured quietly, your voice serious._

_'Yes. It’ll be the last time.’, he said._

_He hadn’t told you about his plans of ending her life. Hadn’t uttered a single word._

_Somehow, you just knew._

_'It’s about time.’, you said, leaning up to press a soft kiss on his forehead._

_Leaving him at a loss for words, he turned to pull you close to his chest and you both drifted back off into an exhausted sleep._


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You talk to your social worker about the encounter with Arthur and run into some trouble, when you go to meet Sophie to question her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by: Sagyunaro on Tumblr  
> https://sagyunaro.tumblr.com/post/188879565007/prompt-for-anyone-wishing-to-write-it
> 
> Find this fic on my Tumblr Blog: JLovesBats  
> https://jaylovesbats.tumblr.com/post/189484815566/chapter-9-so-i-was-met-by-the-realization-i

*** // SOCIAL WORKER’S POV // ***

_*_

_‘Have a seat. Do you want a coffee? I just purchased a machine from one of my co-workers.’, you asked her, while she sat down at a tiny table, she couldn’t remember being there, the last time she visited you._

_'Yes, that would be lovely! You are obviously getting along quite well with the people at your work place. It seems like they are really nice.’, she said, shifting on the tiny plastic chair, adjusting her glasses._

_You went to the kitchen to prepare the coffee, but the both of you could effortlessly hold a conversation in the small apartment, even without being in the same room._

_'Yeah, one of my co-workers offered me a lot of help, actually he’s almost making me uncomfortable with it.’_

_'Sounds like he was genuinely interested in your well-being, maybe you can go further from that point and build a new friendship?’, she dared to ask. You weren’t too fond of her meddling with your personal affairs, she picked up on that early on. But trying didn’t hurt, she figured._

_'Hm, I don’t know. I’m afraid he’ll read more into it than friendship, if I am being too nice.’, you said, returning to the living room, sitting down on the opposite chair and placing a mug with steaming hot coffee in front of her and another one in front of yourself, a concerned expression on your face._

_She noticed you looked tired and worn out, dark circles under your eyes. It was Tuesday, the week had only just begun, so she was wondering about the reason behind your obvious lack of energy._

_'Would that be so bad?’, she said, trying to make eye contact with you, while you just stared at your cup of coffee, seemingly lost in thought, eyebrows drawn together._

_'No, I mean… it’s not his fault, Benji is really nice and if I was anyone else, I’d be happy to give it a try. But I’m still struggling with the situation and actually I don’t feel like starting a relationship with someone right now.’, you murmured._

_'Troubled people can be in relationships as well, you know? It doesn’t make you any less desirable as a partner-’_

_'I KNOW!’, you snapped all of a sudden._

_She looked at you in surprise, her heart starting to race in her chest. You had been Arthur Fleck’s wife and she didn’t know how you had been before the accident, but she didn’t see you as an unstable person, from what she had gotten to know of you until now._

_'Sorry! I just… You know, something weird happened yesterday and it isn’t leaving me alone. I keep thinking about it over and over again, I haven’t slept that much and I’m probably just easily annoyed right now… I didn’t wanted to yell at you, I’m really sorry.’ You explained, finally meeting her eyes now, regret obvious on your face._

_'It’s okay Jeannie, really. Don’t mind it. Do you maybe wanna talk about it?’, she asked, curious about what might have happened, that bothered you so much. All her alarm bells were ringing. She just hoped, you hadn’t remembered anything, it would really be easier for you that way._

_'Uhm. Fine… Uh, so first off, yesterday I had a panic attack at work, after seeing the news. Benji helped me out, trying to calm me down and covering up for me when I left earlier. I can’t really make anything of it, I’m usually not the anxious type and I don’t get why that happened…’_

_'I’m sorry to hear that! What exactly was it on the news, that triggered the attack?’, she had a bad feeling building in her stomach, dread filling her, while you fidgeted with your mug._

_'You know about the guy, who called himself the Joker? They reported about him and his breakout. I really didn’t catch anything else, but just seeing his mugshot made me lose it. I really don’t get it…’, you said, worrying your lips with your teeth._

_'Oh.’, she answered tight-clipped. This was bad. Obviously you didn’t recognize him as who he had been for you, but you seemed to remember in some way or the other, seeing his face triggering a strong emotional reaction subconsciously. She cleared her throat nervously._

_'You know, that man has done a lot of horrible things. Sometimes people with amnesia forget things they once knew, but an emotional reaction can happen through your subconcious, like a kind of a flashback. I suppose, it could have been possible for you to have been involved with him at some point or another before the accident.’_

_'What do you mean?’, you said quietly, a puzzled look on your face._

_'Well, maybe you have been involved as a by-stander in one of his crimes, or were even victimized personally. I think your reaction clearly indicates, that whatever might have been your connection to that man, it certainly wasn’t a positive one.’, she explained._

_You seemed to think it over for a few seconds, looking troubled. She hoped you would just go with it. Her thoughts were running a mile a minute with everything that could go wrong in this situation. She couldn’t let you ask more questions or investigate his person any further._

_Being exposed to him might just as well trigger memories to come back. And even if not, Fleck would certainly try to to find you and make you remember himself, if the two of you ever met again. And that would happen for sure, if you didn’t leave the topic alone._

_She had heard of Fleck’s escape from Arkham, Mrs. Larkin had contacted her as fast as she could, being hospitalized after he had stabbed her. She had to admit, she felt scared for her life then. If he ever got knowledge of her involvement in this, she was sure he wouldn’t leave it at that._

_'The thing is… I don’t know how I felt about him for sure. It wasn’t exactly fear.’, you mumbled somewhat insecure._

_'What do you mean? You had a panic attack, I think that was pretty obvious.’, she argued. Only God knows, what you must have experienced, while being in a relationship with him. She still thought it must have left you traumatized to be involved with such an unstable and violent man._

_'Uhm. When I walked home, I actually ran into him, I think.’, you admitted._

_'What??’, she asked, wide-eyed in shock._

_'No… Before you say more, he didn’t hurt me or anything! He actually… Well. He was pretty upset and called me a name I didn’t recognize and insisted I had left him or something like that. It was really weird and looking at him I really didn’t feel scared. Well, I did, when I noticed, he was that guy from the news, but over all-’_

_'Jeannie, no! You absolutely cannot interact with that man! He is dangerous and you don’t know what happened with the two of you before the accident, he might have hurt you or worse, I don’t want you to-’_

_'STOP!! Stop treating me like a child!’, you yelled at her, making the words get stuck in her throat._

_'I’ve thought about yesterday a lot and actually, WHY would he just randomly call me a name and be so upset and touch me like that?? He looked so hurt and I won’t pretend this was not terribly suspicious! What if I knew him before the accident?! He may be a criminal now, but as far as I know, he hasn’t been like that a few months prior and I can’t just let this slip!’_

_'He touched you? God, Jeannie…You’re not seriously telling me, you want to go find him and ask him about your connection to him, do you?’, she asked, still absolutely shaken by the displayed incident. This was the worst case scenario and she wasn’t sure how to handle it._

_'I don’t know. I see, that it wouldn’t be a good idea to go and find him, I’m not stupid. But what if he indeed knew me? I could get my life back! I could go back to who I was before!’, you said, tears shimmering in your eyes._

_'And it wasn’t the first time something weird like that happened… The other day I met a woman, that seemed to know me as well and I thought I might pay her a visit again, to find out what she knows. It’s not dangerous to go find a woman with a kid right?’, you explained exasperated._

_'Why am I only hearing about this now? When did that happen and where?’, you were probably talking about Fleck’s previous neighbor. Ms Dumond, if she recalled correctly. She had a kid. And she knew you._

_'What does that matter?? And I haven’t told you, because talking to you about my previous life and my struggle always results in you, trying to convince me to see, what a good life I’m leading right now and I just can’t stand it! Living like this, not knowing who I am, not having anyone close to me, you have no idea how horrible that is!’, you cried erratically, tears streaming down your face._

_This wasn’t leading anywhere. She would only upset you further, if she kept telling you what to do. She needed a different approach, to prevent you from snapping and throwing her out. A deep sigh left her throat._

_'Jeannie, I care about you. I just don’t want you to get into any more trouble. You’ve been through so much and I just want you to be okay. Really. I’m only telling you to stay away from that man, because he is highly dangerous and unstable and I don’t want you to get hurt. Recovering your past can’t be higher in priority, than making sure you are safe.’, she said in a calming tone of voice, watching you shake and cry, having stood up, supporting yourself on the table._

_'Please sit down, Jeannie. We will work this out, okay? I promise.’, she tried to persuade you. After taking a deep breath, you complied, sitting back down and starting to knead your own hands nervously._

_'Listen, if you wanna talk to that woman, we can arrange that. I won’t keep you from it. Tell me where you found her and I will accompany you to the visit. I don’t want to take anything away from you, honestly.’, she assured you. You would never know, that they tried to keep you from meeting her. But she needed you to believe, she was on your side._

_You looked dazed. Certainly not impressed._

_'I wanna do that by myself.’, you finally said after a long pause, crossing your arms._

_'Alright. Okay. Just please inform me about the development of the situation, alright? I don’t want you to go through this alone. If you need any help with it, and may it just be that I give you a ride to her place, please call me.’, she said._

_You finally looked at her. There was anger in your eyes. She could see clearly, you didn’t want any company right now._

_'I’ll leave you alone for now, if that’s okay with you?’_

_'Yes, please.’, you murmured._

_'Just one more thing. Please don’t try to contact him. If you really want to question him, you can do that as soon as he gets caught and is brought back to Arkham. At least then it’s safe. Promise me, okay?’, she tried._

_'Okay.’, you said quietly, now looking down at the floor with a sad expression, your lips pulled into a frown._

_'See you next week, alright?’, she said as she stood up, reaching out her hand for goodbye. Nodding, you shook her hand weakly, closing the apartment door behind her._

_A deep headache was building behind her temples and her heart was racing again. This situation was delicate to handle and she had to immediately contact Fleck’s therapist, Mrs Larkin, to inform her about the situation._

_Sophie Dumond had to be monitored 24/7 from now on. You contacting her and getting information about your past life was not an option. And she was sure, Arthur himself would certainly contact her in means to find you as well, sooner or later. Especially now, that he had met you by accident._

_Gods. You said he had touched you and she couldn’t even begin to describe how queasy that made her feel. Her protective instincts were working full force and she just wanted you to stay away from that man, no matter how. She didn’t feel good lying to you about all of this._

_But Mrs Larkin had informed her, that you had been obsessed enough with him, to even continue your relationship with him, after he had been admitted to Arkham. Who knows, what he had done to you, to achieve such unconditional and unhealthy loyalty._

_She began to think, she was the one starting to have a panic attack right now, as she quickly walked to her car, starting her way to Fleck’s therapist immediately._

_*_

*** // READER’S POV // ***

'Uhm, Jeannie! Wait a second!’, Benji called after you, as you were just walking out the staff entrance in the back of the coffee shop, with your work clothes and a bag on your arm. Turning around, you saw him smiling nervously.

'So, I’ve been wondering, if you were free this weekend? I’d like to treat you for a drink around the city tomorrow evening, celebrating you passing your probationary period and all. I know a really nice bar to hang out a little bit. Well, maybe, you know, if you’d like?’, he asked, fidgeting with the seams of his apron.

'Oh, that’s very nice of you! I got a lot on my schedule though, would it be okay, if I gave you a call tomorrow morning?’, you asked. You were right about his intentions. He wanted a date. A sinking feeling spread in your stomach, feeling uncomfortable with his offer.

He had a nice, shy smile on his face, which was betrayed by how persistent he was. He had already asked you out two times before, but you always said, you were still accommodating to your new living situation and all.

Benji was the only of your co-workers, who knew about your amnesia and your struggle, so talking to him was really relieving. He was a really nice friend, but you just didn’t feel good about starting to date him. Although the reason wasn’t him, it was you. That much you knew.

'Oh, come on Jeannie! You already turned me down two times, it breaks my heart!’, he said with puppy eyes. 'I promise we’ll just hang out for a bit, not all night. We can leave anytime you want and I can come by and pick you up with my car. I really just want you to live a little, you’ve been so down this week.’

That much was true. And you had to admit, that going out and having a few drinks to just forget about the situation and your encounter the other day for one evening looked promising.

'You still owe me for covering up for you the other day, you know? I mean, if you really don’t want to, that’s fine as well… But come on, please! Don’t leave me hanging, Jeannie.’, the smile on his face turned lopsided, as he mocked a begging gesture and you thought that you had never seen such big blue gorgeous eyes in your whole life. It made you chuckle, how persistent he was.

'Alright, alright… Saturday evening it is. How about around 8pm?’, you offered, sighing with a smile.

'YES!! Great! That’s gonna be so fun, I promise!’, he exclaimed, giddy with excitement. He looked like a child, although he was about two years older than you were.

'But you don’t have to pick me up, I’ll meet you there, okay? I thought maybe, we could ask a few of our other co-workers to join in? The more the merrier, right? It IS to celebrate my passing after all.’, you said, seeing his face fall.

You felt like an asshole, crushing his hopes like that. But this was better than going along with his advances, only to disappoint him later on. With a few more people, it wouldn’t be as awkward as you imagined it to be just with him.

'Uh, yeah… Sure! I mean, Carla, Nat and Dean like to go out as well, as far as I can tell. I’ll ask them, okay?’, he stuttered out, rubbing his neck awkwardly, a big deal of his excitement now crushed.

'Great! So it’s settled. See you tomorrow then!’, you said, waving your goodbye and leaving him standing in front of the entrance.

Sighing deeply, you looked up to the sky as you started on your way home. It looked like it wouldn’t be raining this evening. That was good, you had plans for the rest of the day after all. It was Friday and you had gotten off work earlier than usual.

The week had passed in no time, while you tried to work through everything that had happened… The encounter with that man on Monday still tainting your thoughts day and night.

And then also the conversation you had with Mrs Parker on Tuesday. It had left you fuming with anger and disappointment. You didn’t even know what you had imagined her reaction would be in the first place.

She was a nice person, but also very motherly and protective and somehow that always left you riled up to no extend. You were just as much a grown woman as she was and her patronizing was striking a serious nerve in you.

And that also led to you not informing her about your plans for today. You wanted to visit the woman you had met the other day some time ago and question her about your identity. You were sure, she knew something.

You planned on going there in the evening. The last time you met her, she was just coming home from work and it had been dark already. So you figured, she wouldn’t be home until later on.

Walking through the park once again, you slowed your step and let your eyes wander around the wide green expanses of grass, noticing that the leaves must have been removed since yesterday.

You hadn’t skipped one day with your walk through the park, hoping you’d run into him again. That man… Thinking of him made your heart race and your chest ache in a weird way. You still wondered, what his reaction was all about. And you were sure, if you met him again, you wouldn’t run. You would ask him, how he knew you. And what your connection had been.

Stopping your walk momentarily, your fingers felt the skin on your cheek, where he had placed his hand that day. His hand was so warm and gentle and his eyes were so full of sorrow and pain. His deep green eyes… They haunted you in your dreams, just as well as his deep, raspy voice, saying that name over and over again.

'Y/N.’, you tested saying that name yourself. It felt weird on your tongue. Has that really been your name before? You couldn’t remember, no matter how hard you tried. It sounded like any other name.

He said, you had left him. Why would he say that, if you hadn’t been involved with him on a deeper, personal level? Maybe he was a relative of yours? NO. Hell, no. You couldn’t imagine anyone related to you would touch you the way he did.

While having the encounter play in your head for the hundredth time, you wondered, if he intended to kiss you back then. He was so close and looked at you with such warm intensity.

And he was attractive, you could tell as much. He was very thin and his clothes were neat and clean. Although the cap and the sunglasses looked somewhat out of place with the whole outfit. He was probably just wearing them to hide his identity. The features of his face were handsome, his jawline sharp, with high cheekbones and beautifully shaped eyebrows.

What were you even thinking?? You stopped yourself, being shocked at you own reaction. That man was a criminal. A murderer. Probably insane. You shouldn’t think about someone like that in means of handsome and attractive.

And all of this didn’t explain that weird panic attack you had at work, upon seeing his face on the news that day.

Continuing your walk, you left the park, admittedly somewhat disappointed you didn’t run into him again. Like all the other days you had worked this week.

You decided to pull yourself together and get going, you had a goal for today and you wouldn’t let yourself get distracted.

*

It was already dark outside as you stood in front of the apartment building, you had met the woman the other day. It had been a hassle to even find the place again, back then you had been too busy dealing with the situation of being lost in an unknown part of the city, to properly memorize the street name or the way you took back home.

After some searching and walking around unknown streets, you did find it through, finally. Walking inside, your heart began to race and you felt dizzy with excitement and fear.

You weren’t too enthusiastic about meeting the woman again. Somehow you didn’t like her. Although you had no idea why. Well. If you had known each other before, maybe something had happened to cause your disliking of her?

You just hoped, she wouldn’t run like the last time. She had been scared of you that day. Taking a deep breath you tried to remind yourself, not to get too emotional and be careful with what to say. Asking politely would get a better result, than scaring her away again.

Walking inside, you removed the hood from your head, your jacket now somewhat soaked, because indeed Gotham’s weather was traitorous. So against your earlier prognosis, it had begun raining, when you were already half an hour into walking.

Now it was all about ringing foreign doors and asking people, just to find her. You felt like an idiot, but it had to be done and maybe somebody could tell you which apartment she lived in, if you gave them a description of her.

It took about three doors, until an older woman opened the fourth, already wearing her nightgown, smiling at you gently. You asked her about the woman and she said, she wasn’t sure, which apartment it was, but she had met her occasionally, saying she was a really nice young woman with a cute daughter, accompanying her when she left the house and also when she came back in the evenings.

She said her name was Sophie Dumond. Thanking the old lady for her help and wishing her a nice evening, you turned around, walking up to the mail boxes. In one of the upper rows, her name was written. You figured it had to be the same floor, the row of the mailbox was in, so you gave it a try.

Waiting for the elevator, you noticed two men walking into the entrance and looking down the floor, directly at you. They looked suspicious. And they were watching you. They talked to each other, never looking away and you were glad the elevator door opened in that same second.

You walked in and rode up to the destined floor, slowly getting giddy with nervousness. Having arrived on the floor, you ringed the doorbell of the next best apartment, to ask which one Sophie was living in.

A harshly looking, bald man with a huge belly opened the door, holding a bottle of beer in his hand, while the TV in his apartment was blasting on full volume. He looked like an asshole, but you tried to be nice anyway, while you asked him about Sophie.

'That bitch? The third door down the corridor, left side. How bout you give her a little greeting from me?’, he said, laughing, as he burped loudly and walked back into his apartment, smashing the door in your face. Nice guy. Gods, how you hated the people in Gotham. Most of them were so awful.

You walked down the corridor, stopping in front of the mentioned door, as you pulled out a notepad and a pen, writing down the address and the apartment number of Sophie Dumond.

Just as you rang her doorbell, you heard the elevator door opening again and the two guys from down the entrance entered the corridor, walking straight in your direction.

A sudden jolt of panic surged through you, so you continued to ring the doorbell excessively. s the door opened, you spotted Sophie’s face for just a second, before her features contorted in obvious shock and she slammed the door shut again, loudly.

'NO, WAIT!!’, you yelled. Turning your head, you saw that the two guys had now begun to walk more quickly.

'Miss? Miss, would you please refrain from contacting the woman living there?’, one of them said loudly, while the other walked behind him.

As they approached you, your first instinct was to run, but you had run enough times and it always left you conflicted to the point of breaking down. You had majorly enough of running away. You wanted answers and in your anger you decided to face and confront them.

'Why? Is it forbidden to visit a friend? Who are you?’, you questioned, crossing you arms.

'Listen, we’ve been hired to protect that woman from a potential stalker and we won’t let anyone come near her, that isn’t listed as her friend or trusted person. You certainly are not. So we have to ask you to leave, please.’, the man said, while the other started to attempt to walk past you.

They tried to corner you. So you took a few steps back, until the man stopped.

A stalker? Was that why she had been so scared of you? Did you stalk her? Why on earth would you do that?

'Okay. I understand. Listen, I may not know her, but she knows me and I have to ask her some stuff. I won’t harm her. You can even accompany me while I engage her, making sure everything’s alright, I don’t mind. I just wanna talk to her.’, you explained.

The men started walking towards you again and you could practically feel the threat in the air.

'Miss, please. Just leave. You’re not wanted here and we have to make sure you leave Miss Dumond alone.’, one of them said, while walking even closer, invading your space.

'No, I won’t leave, I have to-’, you began to say, just as the other one grabbed your arm, pulling you against him.

'LET GO!! Don’t fucking touch me!’, you yelled, struggling. The other of the two men took you other arm in a firm grip, while they both pulled you along the corridor.

You felt feral. You were kicking and screaming, as they pulled you back into the elevator. Using the walls of the elevator for leverage, you pushed yourself and them along with you against the wall, struggling hard.

'I said let go, don’t you fucking hear me??!’, you roared. They didn’t even bother answering you, with made you fume even more.

When the elevator doors closed, they let go of you. Their mistake. You swung out your right arm, punching one of them hard in the face, making your own knuckles hurt.

It crunched sickeningly, you had probably broken his nose, the man falling back and doubling over, groaning loudly in pain.

The other one immediately tried to restrain you, as the guy you punched leaned against the wall, a hand covering his face. Blood was gushing out of his nose through his hfingers and you knew, you had landed a good hit.

Then the elevator doors opened, the bleeding man stumbling outside, as you wriggled in the grasp of the man holding you. He held your wrists in your hands and you decided to knee at his crotch for good measure. He spotted your intent early enough to hold you more distantly, pulling you outside the elevator.

'Don’t fucking touch me, asshole!! LET GO!!’, you screamed aggressively. Your hands and legs were shaking from all the adrenaline and your breath came out labored from the struggling.

You had no idea why these men had such a big fucking problem with you talking to that woman, but you wouldn’t let them keep you from it, especially not, when they decided to just take you outside by force.

'Man, I need some help here!!’, the guy holding you yelled to the other one, which was still unable to move properly. Somehow you managed to free one hand of his grasp, clawing at his face with your nails, which made him scream out in pain.

'You fucking bitch!!’, he yelled, pulling you around until your back was hitting the wall beside the elevator. Then he backhanded you across the face, hard, making your head spin, momentarily seeing stars. Gasping, you recovered and turned your head to look back at him in shock.

They even resulted to hurting you. By now you contemplated calling the police, but suddenly both men went rigid, the bleeding one pulling out a gun, facing the entrance, as the other was once again holding you, watching in shock.

*** // ARTHUR’S POV // ***

Going back to his old apartment left him feeling nostalgic. Since he got ready for Murray’s show that day, this place had felt like he had abandoned it. It was no longer his home and he could never go back. Well, he was doing so right now, but for a completely different reason.

He had called Johnny for a ride, to avoid drawing to much attention while walking through the city. He was looking dazzling. His green hair was slicked back, his clown makeup in place, he wore his new suit with the coat and had taken a good amount of weapons with him, fitting them into the pockets of his coat.

Johnny had been excited to help, that guy was really one hell of an ally, Arthur noticed. Not only did he help him any way he could, he felt ecstatic anytime Arthur would contact him. Arthur figured, this is what it must feel like to have friends. He never had any, so he couldn’t tell.

Johnny drove fast, loud swing music blasting on the radio. It helped Arthur a great deal to slip into his Joker persona, having fun all the way to the apartment complex. He told Johnny some of his jokes and he was absolutely thrilled, laughing at each one of them.

As Johnny dropped him off, Arthur lit a cigarette, his step was light and energetic, almost dancing to the entrance. He had told Johnny to wait for him, so they could get back without a hassle. Arthur was sure, the police would be called, as soon as somebody spotted him.

Sophie herself would probably call them, as soon as he was done with her. He didn’t plan on hurting her. He just wanted to ask her, what she knew. He took a deep drag of his cigarette, as he walked into the building.

Standing in the hallway, he suddenly heard loud voices. Turning his head, the elevator door opened, a man stumbling out, his back hunched and a hand pressed against his face. The poor guy was obviously bleeding.

Then another guy stepped out of the elevator. With YOU. He stood frozen in place, startled for a moment, his eyes going wide and dropping his cigarette in surprise.

'Don’t fucking touch me, asshole!! LET GO!!’, you screamed, the man holding your wrists.

Arthur instantly started walking towards the fight, the other man supporting himself on the opposite wall, trying to compose himself, while groaning in pain.

'Man, I need some help here!!’, the guy holding you yelled. You suddenly managed to free one hand, which immediately clawed at the mans face violently. Arthur’s eyes were glued to your face and he could see, you were fuming with anger.

'You fucking bitch!!’, he yelled, as he backhandedly slapped you across the face, your head flying sideways. You would have fallen to the floor, if the man hadn’t still held one of your wrists in his grasp.

That’s when Arthur snapped. His hand moved into his pocket automatically, pulling out his gun, his teeth clenched in aggression. He was still walking towards them, as they suddenly noticed him by the quickly approaching footsteps.

They gawked at him in shock, while the guy on the wall shakily pulled a gun to face him. You had noticed him as well, as his eyes were roaming the three of you.

Red hot rage was threatening to burst his chest, he couldn’t even breathe. How dare they touch you like that?? How dare they hurt you??! His logical thinking was tuned off, as he took aim at the guy holding you.

'HOW DARE YOU TOUCH MY WIFE LIKE THAT??!’, he yelled in explosive anger, firing, before the guy could even process. Arthur was close enough to hit him right in the chest, without having to consider twice, his blood splattering on your face and clothes, your expression one of absolute shock.

The guy on the wall gasped in fear, immediately shooting back. A sharp pain exploded in Arthur’s chest, making him gasp and taking his breath away, while he stumbled momentarily.

Looking up again, he noticed the guy moved to take a hold of you, still aiming the gun at him, but very obviously scared out of his mind, the hand holding the gun shaking uncontrollably.

In the back of his head Arthur wondered for a second, why he didn’t drop dead, the sharp pain already subsiding. But he was too busy to think about it anymore, seeing the guy pull you back with him, taking a few steps back from Arthur, while nearly tripping over his dying friend.

He was holding you in front of himself now, his arm around your throat, squeezing tight enough to make your face contort in pain, choking you. You were struggling heavily against his grasp, you nails clawing at his clothed arm. It didn’t have any effect.

If Arthur didn’t do anything, the guy would choke you for real, as he noticed you were unable to breathe. The man didn’t even seem to realize his grasp was wound too tight.

The man suddenly threw you away, making you hit the nearby wall hard, while screaming desperately and unloading a bunch of shots, firing aimlessly in Arthur’s direction.

A sharp pain exploded in his leg, making him stumble. But it didn’t keep him from shooting back at the man, hitting him a handful of times, making him drop dead.

Arthur exhaled heavily, pushing through the pain, he limped over to you.

He begged, you weren’t hurt too badly. You didn’t move, laying on the floor motionless and his heart was in his throat with fear of losing you.

Kneeling down beside you, he spotted a wound on your head, seeping blood into your hair. He measured your pulse and sighed in relieve as he found it weak but steady.

Cupping your face, he looked at you for a second longer. He wondered, what you had been doing here. It was such a weird coincidence, meeting you here of all places. It couldn’t have been one. No way.

He pocketed his gun then and scooped your unconscious body up into his arms, struggling to lift you up and straighten his legs. He had a bleeding wound on the left one, the pain now burning and making him feel sick.

Carrying you, he groaned and pulled you close to him, your head resting against his shoulder, while he limped back to the entrance, going for Johnny’s car.

As he spotted Arthur, stumbling towards his car, Johnny immediately rushed out to help him, which he was thankful for. Johnny opened the back door of the car and Arthur placed you on the backseat as gently as possible.

'Damn, Arthur, what the hell?? What on Earth happened??’, Johnny asked, as Arthur was limping around the car, going for the passengers seat, wincing in pain as he sat down.

'Well… If you turned your music down now and again, maybe you would have heard the frickin gunshots.’, Arthur gasped, his breathing labored, sweat forming on his forehead.

'Man, I’m sorry! Really!’, Johnny excused himself profusely, obviously upset with the situation.

’D-don’t worry about it, just… think of it next time.’, Arthur said with a weak smile on his face. 'It doesn’t matter. I got more than what I came here for. Now drive me back to my apartment.’

'Who is she?’, Johnny asked, starting the engine and taking off.

'That, my friend, is the woman I love. She’s my wife.’, Arthur said, leaning his head against the backrest and closing his eyes with a blissful smile on his lips, his hands now pressed against the wound on his leg to reduce the bleeding.

Johnny threw a quick look over his shoulder, seeing you laying on his backseat, as Arthur suddenly moved to crawl into the back of the car, taking a seat, so he could lay your head on his lap.

He looked at you lovingly, stroking loose strands of hair out of your face, while admiring your features. Finally. Finally he had you back with him. He couldn’t believe it. He felt happier than he had in months.

Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he carefully dabbed at the wound on your head. Your cheekbone was sporting a nasty bruise by now.

The pig that did that was hopefully burning in hell by now. Arthur would love to kill him a second time, slowly, painfully. He would kill anybody, that ever laid a hand on you ever again.

Leaning down and taking in your scent, the streets of Gotham flew by, as he finally had you back in his arms, pressing a feather light kiss on your forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!😘  
> Please leave a comment, to let me know what you think about the fic!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs Larkin has a talk with the police commissioner, while you find yourself waking up in Arthur’s hideout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this one took a little longer than usual, but I really wanted to manage the release before the holidays, because I won't be able to write much during Christmas and stuff. I hope you like it! ;*
> 
> Prompt by: Sagyunaro on Tumblr  
> https://sagyunaro.tumblr.com/post/188879565007/prompt-for-anyone-wishing-to-write-it
> 
> Find this fic on my Tumblr Blog: JLovesBats  
> https://jaylovesbats.tumblr.com/post/189484815566/chapter-9-so-i-was-met-by-the-realization-i

*** // THERAPIST’S POV // ***

‘Mrs Larkin, good to see you back at work, I hope you recovered well.’ the police commissioner said, entering her office.

She had been in the hospital for quite some time and only recently started to work again. The incident of the breakout had left her shook to the bone and she had to admit, her resolve was crumbling.

She was just about to leave, having worked overtime once again. Work had piled up while she was absent, her colleagues only barely able to jump in and cover her patients as well.

She took a long look at the commissioner, who was in his early fifties, but looked somewhat older. He looked tired and stressed, dark circles under his eyes and beads of sweat on his forehead. The whole situation with the Joker left the police short on officers, because they needed so many all around the city, constantly looking for traces of Fleck and his whereabouts.

'Commissioner. How can I help you?’ she asked, busying herself with finishing a few notes, before packing up her belongings.

'Good thing I caught you before you left work, we have something serious to talk about.’ the man said, while taking a seat in front of her at the desk. That made her look up momentarily, her stomach already clenching in dread.

'Half an hour ago, we received a call from Sophie Dumond, informing us about an incident that took place this evening. Mrs Fleck obviously attempted to go see her, although Miss Dumond refused any interaction. While she was still on the phone, gunshots were heard and we immediately sent more men to inspect the situation, only to find the two officers, that had observed Miss Dumond, dead in the entrance hallway.’ he explained, sounding far more relaxed than he looked.

Her hand holding the pen froze and she looked up at him in shock, not finding any words to comment on what he said. A heavy sigh of distress leaving her throat, she put the pen down, only to bury her head inside her palms for a few seconds.

'Was the Joker involved?’, she asked.

'We don’t know yet. All the residents were questioned, but the only person they were talking about was Mrs Fleck, no reports of the clown being seen around the crime scene. We can’t be sure.’, he said, a grim expression on his face.

'We don’t know, if she carried a weapon either, considering the two men were shot. Do you think it is possible for her to commit such a gruesome act herself? I mean, she was involved with Fleck after all, maybe the violent tendencies stuck with her.’

'I honestly don’t know. I haven’t talked to her all that often and the times I did, she seemed reasonable enough. Although her obsession with my patient was bordering on insanity.’ she said.

Earlier this week, Mrs Parker had informed her, that the woman had obviously ran into Fleck by accident. The social worker said, she was becoming more irritable lately and she had told her about the woman’s intention of going to meet Sophie Dumond. That was the reason Mrs Larkin had immediately informed the police and they placed two officers in civil attire nearby, to make sure, she wouldn’t succeed in her attempt of questioning her.

'If Mrs Fleck was involved in hurting these men, we have to know. I’m sorry, but we need to go and question her. We’ll try to keep up the act, but we absolutely need to be sure. If she did that, we have to arrest her. Maybe it would be better for all parties to have her out of the picture.’, the commissioner explained carefully, gauging her reaction.

She knew, he was right. Maybe it would be easier, if the woman didn’t pose a threat anymore. As far as she even did… They couldn’t know after all.

'Yes. Question her. But I want you to do it with her social worker present. Here is her number, contact her to make an appointment. I’ll call her tomorrow as well and inform her about the situation beforehand.’, she said, writing down the phone number on a sticky note and handing it to the commissioner.

'Sure. We’ll let you know about the development of the situation. Have a nice evening, Mrs Larkin.’, the man said, standing up, rearranging his clothes and hair in the process.

'Commissioner. You NEED to find him. If he somehow manages to contact his wife, we’re all in danger of a horrible act of revenge on their part. She might not remember right now, but maybe she will, if she’s seeing him again. If I believe what her social worker told me, she’s starting to ask questions. This absolutely may not go wrong, or we’re all screwed.’ she phrased meaningfully, looking him in the eyes.

'We are doing everything we can, Mrs Larkin. Literally. I have barely enough men to afford the hunt after him and manage the rest of Gotham’s crimes at the same time. We’re all exhausted and overworked. The mood is tense in the department and I’m afraid we’re running out of time. So, I’ll be honest with you. Actually I want Mrs Fleck observed 24/7.’, he said.

'You already tried that and your men weren’t capable of keeping up with her.’, Mrs Larkin said with an annoyed look on her face, frowning. She was skeptical, the last time they tried observing her, they failed miserably, Fleck’s wife obviously didn’t have much trouble escaping their view. The officers shadowing her must have been totally inexperienced and obvious, revealing their intention even from a distance.

'This is an emergency situation and I know professionals that are better suited for shadowing someone, than my men are. If you don’t mind, I’ll arrange everything? We need to resolve this situation and find him as quickly as possible. I expect his wife WILL run into him again, at some point or another. So this is the easiest way of accomplishing our goal, without wasting any more time or endangering the life of my officers.’

'Alright. Do what needs to be done.’, she said, shaking his hand. Then she watched him nodding and turning his back to her, leaving the room in a hurry.

She needed Arthur Fleck back in the hospital. If he should indeed manage to contact his wife and regain her trust, he would find out about their lies and she would suffer for it. And she was sure this time, he wouldn’t let her off the hook with just a stab wound.

Packing up her belongings, she left her office, driving home with dread threatening to choke her.

*** // ARTHUR’S POV // ***

Entering the apartment, he carried you through the doorway and had to chuckle at the very familiar picture, reminding him of the day you two got married.

His breathing was labored and painful, as he felt dizzy on shaky legs. It has never been an issue to carry you, but the profusely bleeding injury in his thigh and the many stairs up to the fourth floor while carrying your weight, left him feeling like passing out.

Attempting to catch his breath, he was working his way through the living room, laying you down on the couch carefully, trying to be cautious while softly placing your head on a pillow.

He kneeled down beside you, stroking some loose strands of hair out of your face. You were totally out of it, not having stirred even a single time on the whole way back to his hideout.

The wound on your head was oozing blood, which stained your hair in a deep shade of wet red, while it now also ran down the side of your face.

He had purchased a first aid kit from Johnny and immediately pushed himself up to get to work. Staggering, he retrieved the kit, returning to kneel by your side, while black spots started to stain his vision.

He was cleaning up the wound with delicate and slow movements, no matter how much his hands were shaking, removing the blood from your beautiful face with the utmost care, all the while listening to your deep even breath, centering him.

When he was done he sat down, leaning against the couch, and inspected the wound on his leg, being relieved to see the bullet only grazed his thigh. But it was still a breathtaking and sharp pain, made even worse by the strain he had put on it.

He decided, to bandage it as good as he could, doing a miserable job with it, his lack of energy getting to him. The blood had seeped through his pants all the way down to his feet. Hank would probably start to cry, looking at this dilemma.

Thinking about Hank and his suit, a thought struck him. The dull ache in his ribs reminded him of the shot to his chest that must have killed him, but somehow didn’t. Inspecting the fabric of his coat, he noticed the bullet still stuck there.

Pulling it out and looking at the little whole left behind, he stuck a finger through the fabric, feeling a cool smooth surface.

‘Hank.’ Arthur let out a breathy chuckle, snorting at the realization.

That smug bastard. He had designed the coat bulletproof. His suit jacket was probably advanced in the same way. That was, why the pieces were so heavy on him. Hank had only laughed, while Arthur complained about it and now he understood why.

He was beyond grateful. It made tears sting in his eyes, the smile never leaving his face. Without Hank, he would be dead by now. He had to properly thank him, the next time he saw him. He literally saved his ass. If it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t have been able to protect you or have you back in his arms.

Uttering a deep sigh, he noticed just how drained he was. Not surprising, considering the amount of blood he must have lost. It would probably be a good idea to get some food and water. He hadn’t eaten in a while, too busy thinking and planning. And Arthur hadn’t slept that much either, still plagued by insomnia and nightmares.

With a strained groan, he pushed himself up, leaving for the kitchen. Pulling out two slices of toast and a jar of peanut butter and filling himself a glass of water, he slid down against the kitchen counter, straightening out his injured leg and placing the items next to him on the floor, while holding the bread in his hand.

Taking out a knife from his pocket, he began preparing a sandwich. It made him chuckle. He was bleeding all over the floor, his bandages already fully drenched, spreading peanut butter over his toast with a pocket knife, while his unconscious wife laid on the rundown couch next room. This situation was ridiculous.

Leaning his head back against the counter, he took a sip of water and placed the sandwich on his non-injured leg for the time being. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his coat, he lit one and took a deep drag, sighing tiredly.

Smiling, he drifted off into daydreams. He had you back. And it left him thinking about you finally waking up and what you two would do, just as soon as you sorted out the mess that was your marriage.

He didn’t want to think about complicated things right now, instead indulging in a sweet fantasy of you hugging him, kissing him and finally finding some relieve after all these months.

*** // READER’S POV // ***

The first thing you noticed was a sharp and dull pain in your head, throbbing terribly. Trying to open your eyes, your surroundings looked contorted by black spots and dizziness, everything spinning in circles. You couldn’t yet orient yourself, your body feeling upside down.

Your hearing came back to you, before your sight normalized. You heard someone chuckle. You tried to focus on the sound, to come back to full consciousness. Now you noticed you were laying on a couch.

You took the time you needed to fully come back to your senses before moving. Then your hand came up to touch your throbbing head, only to find fabric spread over it.

Blinking, you tried to remember. And after a moment of absolute blankness, everything that had happened came rushing back to you.

Your body tensed and you sat up with a start, leaving your head stinging painfully, nausea spreading through your stomach. Taking a deep breath, you tried to compose yourself and calm your racing heartbeat.

It was HIM.

He had looked like the pictures and clips you had seen on the news, his face painted in clown makeup, face chalk white and his mouth contorted in a wide red smile, while blue triangles decorated his eyes above and below. His suit was a shade of wine red, but now he wore a coat as well.

You remembered your heart skipped a beat upon seeing him, every thought process you had going before screeching to a halt. Even the pain on your face had been all but forgotten.

His eyes were wide, his expression one of explosive anger, as he walked towards you and yelled 'HOW DARE YOU TOUCH MY WIFE LIKE THAT??!’.

His wife??! WIFE?!!

Blinking, your hands came up to support your head, as your face contorted in confusion. You flinched and hissed in pain at accidentally touching the bruise forming on your jaw and cheekbone.

Adrenaline was rushing through your body now and it helped in regaining your composure, the dizziness slowly subsiding. You looked at your surroundings now, taking in the dirty rundown apartment, clutter all over the place, the couch table obviously broken.

Suddenly you heard humming, coming from another room. It was a song. Interrupted by a chuckle here and there. It sent a jolt down your spine and your stomach clenched and the sound.

He must have taken you with him. You had obviously passed out in the fight, you couldn’t remember what happened though. The last thing you remembered was the guy that hit you being shot and the other one grabbing you in a tight choke hold. You thought he was strangling you for real. Obviously he hadn’t succeeded in that.

Carefully straightening yourself, you slowly attempted to get up, already looking for the apartment door. You needed to get out of here, before he noticed you were awake. Your hands were shaking with all the adrenaline flooding your body.

Wait. No. You had promised yourself, you wouldn’t run. Of course, you were scared, but you needed to ask him, if he really knew you. And what relationship the two of you had.

Wife. He obviously meant you when he said that. Had he been your husband before the accident? But if so, then there had to have been traces like a wedding ring or some kind of personal information on you, right?

Taking a deep breath, you tried to sneak towards the door, to at least have the exit behind you, should things go downhill. What if he indeed was a stalker, like Mrs Parker had said? A stalker would probably want you to believe, you had some kind of connection.

Peeking in through the doorway of the kitchen, you saw him.

He sat on the floor, oblivious to your presence. A lit cigarette hung forgotten between his fingers, as he stared dazedly onto the floor through half-lidded eyes. A gentle smile adorned his features, although it was heavily obscured by his clown makeup.

You could see, he was shaking. And there was a lot of blood, having seeped onto the floor. His leg seemed injured. Good for you. Maybe he couldn’t even get up and come after you, should you make a run for it. The circumstances made you feel a little more safe.

Suddenly he closed his eyes, leaning his head back while he started to hum once again. You thought, you knew the tune, confusion starting to spread on your features.

'Y/N. Sweety.’ he mumbled sleepily, repeating your name every other second.

His voice, soft like that, made shivers run down your spine. And that name. It was the same, he called you the other day. He looked so different, when you had met him in civil clothing.

'I got you now. I got you back. Y/N.’ he said chuckling lightly, taking a lazy drag of his cigarette, before he started humming again, the smile on his lips now wider than before.

'That’s life. That’s what all the people say…’, he sang. He was actually singing. Your eyes went wide.

'You’re riding high in April. Shot down in May…’, the sound of his voice somehow made your heart start to race, while you froze on the spot.

His voice sounded so familiar and pleasant. Heat rushed to your face and the back of your neck, while your breathing sped up.

'But I know I’m gonna change that tune. When I’m back on top… back on top in June…’, he continued, his delightful soft laughter mixing into the lyrics in the end.

His laughter. The sound of it clashed with something deep inside of you and you felt your headache coming back. Although it didn’t radiate from your injury anymore, it seemed to spread from the back of your head, making your skull burst with pressure.

Your hands grabbed your head forcefully, trying to relieve the pain. You took a few disoriented steps back until you met a wall. One of the floorboards was creaking beneath your feet on the way back, which made you look up in shock.

The singing had ceased. Silence. And he was looking at you, eyes wide and mouth open in surprise.

You stood frozen in place, your hands coming down again to support your shaking form on the wall behind you. He got up fast, faster than you had expected, while dropping his cigarette carelessly, the movement startling you. He approached quickly.

’S-stop…’ you stuttered, moving one of your hands in front of you. The headache was making you feel dizzy and your heart felt like it was bursting out of your chest.

'Y/N?’, he asked, stopping in his step, holding both his hands up in surrender, obviously trying to show you he meant no harm. The expression on his face seemed worried and a bit strained.

'Sweety, we need to talk. I just want you to talk to me, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.’, he said, his voice careful and soothing, as he once again started stepping closer, more careful now.

His voice was getting to you and your reaction to that nickname startled you once again, as your face was heating up further. You still couldn’t move, you felt cornered and you wished, he would just stop.

He stood right in front of you now, one of his hands moving to take yours, holding onto it and taking it down gently. You noticed, he was shaking as well.

'I-I said STOP! If you want to talk, y-you can do that from over there!’ you yelled pathetically, trying to make your point clear. You tried pulling your hand out of his grasp, but he held onto it tightly, having you struggle in his grasp.

'Y/N, please! You’re not really scared of me, are you??’, he argued, a shocked expression on his face. 'You know me! I would never hurt you, you know that and I-’

'NO, I DON’T!!’ you yelled, now forcefully ripping your hand out of his grasp, pressing your body closer into the wall. Your breath was shallow and hectic by now, your limbs tingling from hyperventilating so hard.

'What do you mean, NO??’ he asked, now visibly agitated. 'You know me damn well and I need you to stop making fun of me!’, he said more loudly, his hands now attempting to grab your shoulders.

As your panic reached its peak, the only thing you wanted to do was run, all of your plans of questioning him thrown out of the window. Ducking away under his arms you made a run to the next best door, leading to the bathroom. He was directly behind you as you slammed the door in his face, locking it quickly.

You tried to catch your breath as you walked into the bathroom, away from the door. He kept mumbling. Asking you why you did this, demanding to let him inside, knocking on the door annoyingly.

You sat down on the floor, leaning against a wall and pulling your legs close to your chest, while you placed your head on your knees. Tears were now running down your face and you couldn’t keep in the loud sobs, leaving your throat.

He went silent for a moment.

'Y/N, breathe. Slow and deep. It’s okay, I’m right here. Breathe. I’m not gonna hurt you.’ he assured, continuing to mumble encouragement and calming words through the door.

After a few minutes, the sobbing stopped and your breath was coming in more deeply by now.

'Can I come in? Please, Sweety. Open the door and let me in.’ he said softly, his voice full of honey.

Alright. Straightening your back, you finally found the resolve you had had before and attempted to stand up shakily. Your body was still fighting with shivers and you felt exhausted by the panic attack that had wrecked you.

You needed something to defend yourself with. Anything. Walking up to the sink, you spotted a shaving razor. That came in handy. Picking it up, you saw your reflection in the mirror. You looked pathetic.

A bandage was wrapped around your head. Had he done that? Maybe he really didn’t want to hurt you. Why would he tend to your wounds, only to hurt you more?

Your concerned expression became even more troubled, not understanding the contradiction of the situation and your weird feelings.

On a shelf below the mirror you saw two bottles of perfume. One of them was the same, you had been using since the accident.

How did he know that? Anger bubbled up in your chest. He MUST have stalked you, no matter if he knew you before the accident or not.

'Y/N. I’m done playing. Either you open the door, or I’ll come in anyway.’ he said, his voice having dropped an octave by now. It was not a threat, but not exactly reassuring either. You braced yourself, standing in the middle of the room, while holding the razor firmly gripped in front of you.

You waited in silence for a few seconds.

'Fine.’ was everything you heard him saying, before you heard him walk away from the door. You had just enough time to get confused and start to wonder, before he violently stemmed the door open, breaking the wooden frame and the lock in the process.

Stepping through the now open door, you saw he held a crowbar in his hand, a serious expression on his face.

His jaw was clenched in anger, his patience had obviously run out.

Then so be it. You couldn’t care less, yours was running thin as well. You wanted answers now. And he would give them to you, you had reached your fucking limit yesterday.

'Y/N. Tell me, why you left. Now.’, he said through gritted teeth. His eyes flickered down for a second, spotting the razor in your hands, doing nothing to deescalate the situation, obviously only riling him up further, having him release an annoyed breath through his nose.

'No. You will answer MY QUESTIONS now!’ You yelled, squaring your shoulders and lifting your chin in defiance.

'What is it with you?? Why are you following me and why do you keep asking these stupid questions? How do you know me?’ you unleashed the series of harshly spoken questions at him, satisfied to see, that the look on his face became more and more confused with each word.

'What?!’, he asked, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion, while his expression was absolutely dumbfounded.

'Are you a stalker?? What do you want from me? How do you know me??’, you attempted to ask again.

Suddenly, he threw his head back and started cackling loudly. It was a horrible sound, mean and bitter, so very different from the soft chuckle he had uttered in the kitchen. Looking back at you, while his laughter was still very much present, you took a step back.

'HOW I KNOW YOU?? Are you kidding me? You may have left, but we’re still married, you know? Maybe you just wanted to forget about that hard enough, it actually worked for you!’ he snarled, aggressively tilting his head, his eyes shooting daggers at you.

'MARRIED?? I AM NOT MARRIED. And if I have ever been, I wouldn’t know.’ you exclaimed, pointing the razor directly at him now. He still didn’t stop approaching you, his demeanor now changing again. If you were honest for a second, his change of moods gave you a major backlash.

He dropped the crowbar then, kicking it sideways to slide over the tiles. Standing up straight, he now walked towards you almost elegantly, playfully, his slender frame swaying in his step, while the smile on his lips turned nasty and cruel.

Your eyes dropped down, roaming his figure, taking him in from head to toe. Your face was heating up again, as you noticed what you were doing. He looked like a damn model. And you hated yourself for thinking something like that, while he was said to be a stalker, a lunatic and a murderer.

He only stopped, when the tip of the razor collided softly with his chest.

'What do you wanna do? Hurt me? You can’t do that. Not anymore. You already hurt me in the most painful way possible.’, he said, his voice low and intense, while his stare was burning holes into you.

He continued to lean into the razor, your expression turning shocked, as you noticed, he really didn’t care about being hurt. You tried to take another step back as the razor was slowly pushing through his shirt, but his hand came up around your wrist, stopping your hand and the razor where they were.

'STOP. RUNNING.’ he growled, the smile on his face now vanished, leaving behind a frown.

'I-I don’t know you. I can’t remember anything.’ you stuttered, his touch and the closeness of his body getting to you somehow as dizziness once again contorted your view.

'You don’t remember, huh?’ he whispered, breaking off eye contact, while his gaze was glazing over with emotion and pain. 'Well. Then let me remind you.’ he mumbled with a soft voice, as his eyes found yours once again.

His other hand came up to grab the back of your neck, pulling you close and crashing his lips onto yours desperately.

He moved so fast, your mind couldn’t even process and the kiss caught you off-guard in the weirdest way possible.

His lips on yours felt hot, while his hand held your neck in a vice-like grip. The kiss sent jolts down your spine and let heat pool low in your belly. It made your head spin and you couldn’t think anymore.

Your body moved automatically , as your hand came up to his hair, grabbing it, not sure if you wanted pull him closer or shove him away.

He obviously took your reaction as a sign to continue, now trying to part your lips and deepen the kiss, while purring in content. The taste of his lips was too much for you.

You let out a whimper, your stomach dropping at the feeling of losing control, once again becoming aware of the situation.

Fear seized your body and you started to struggle in his grasp. You let go of his hair, now trying to push him away. It didn’t work, his grasp on you to forceful, so you started hitting his chest frantically.

And as he didn’t budge, you made a quick decision and bit down hard on his lip with sharp teeth. It made him hiss in pain and stumble back, his mouth agape in shock, blood seeping from the split you had caused in his lip.

You fell down to your knees, trying to catch your breath, while tears threatened to spill from your eyes. The razor had fallen to the floor now, as you supported yourself on your hands, now on all fours.

'W-WHY?? Why are you doing that? I don’t know you! I d-don’t understand any of this!’ you cried out in sorrow and confusion, your body still heated up from the kiss, the places he touched tingling.

He looked at you, still in shock at your sudden emotional reaction, his hand coming up to his lip, only to see blood on his fingertips. Then he slowly approached you, sitting down beside you with a groan, obviously pained by the injury in his leg.

You didn’t look at him anymore, now helplessly staring at the floor, while tears continued to spill from your eyes, distorting your view. Your body shook uncontrollably as you noticed his hand gently cupping your cheek.

'I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to upset you.’ he said softly, lifting your head up enough to meet your gaze. As he saw your pained expression, he let go of your face, his back hunching in defeat as he let his head hang low.

Suddenly he looked more like young child than the dangerous lunatic that he was. You started to feel an irresistible urge to comfort the man, not understanding how you could feel that.

'I just… I thought, maybe you would… That m-maybe everything could just be as it was before, if I just made you realize… I love you, Y/N. I can’t be without you. And I just want to understand, why you left… I just can’t think of a reason you would do that.’ he said, his voice broken and pained.

He pulled up his left hand, looking at the wedding ring adorning his finger.

'We loved each other. So much… You promised me, you would never leave. Not for anything in this world. And now…’, his gaze became unfocused, a single tear falling down from his eye, running down his face blue with the makeup.

You didn’t know what to say, as you still stared at the wedding ring on his finger. Over his reaction, you completely forgot all the fear you had felt before, your heart hurting seeing his tears and his defeat. You shouldn’t feel empathy for a stalker.

'I had an accident.’ you mumbled, your voice frail.

'What…?’ he whispered, his eyes finally coming back up to meet yours.

'A few months back I have been involved in a car crash and I don’t know anything from before. Not even my name. I had to choose a new one. I don’t know where I lived before or if anyone… Well, if there had been people in my life before.’ you explained slowly, exhausted by the events of the evening.

He stared at you speechlessly, as his expression became even more troubled.

'I don’t know, if I knew you or if you’re just a crazy stalker. I can’t be sure. No matter what you say. I don’t remember a thing. Did you really know me?’, you asked, eyes fixed on his in curiosity.

He looked back to his wedding ring, smiling gently and a little sad now, sighing deeply.

'We married in June. You’ve known me for over a year.’, he said, as he took off the ring, which effortlessly slided from his slender finger.

'Your dress was so beautiful. I thought I saw an angel that day.’, his frame started shaking with swallowed down sobs or laughs, you couldn’t tell.

'Til death do us part.’ he whispered, as he took one of your hands, placing the ring in your palm before closing it.

He looked at you warmly and full of longing, while his eyes still held unshed tears, leaving you stunned.

Then you watched him pull himself up with some effort, limping towards the door, leaving you kneeling on the cold tiled floor.

'You’re free to leave whenever you want. I think I need to rest for a bit.’, he said, his voice breaking a little at the end. He stepped through the door frame, heading for the living room, while your stomach was clenching in something utterly different from dread or fear.

You felt warm, as you read the date and the names engraved into the inside of the ring.

'Arthur & Y/N.’ you read out loud, while spinning the ring revealed another engraved word, that left you clasping your hand over your mouth, as tears formed in your eyes.

Smile.

'Arthur…’


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is devastated by the revelation of your amnesia. You patch him up and the two of you try to figure out what to make of the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting back to writing after the holidays sure is hard.😅 The chapter is a little shorter than usual I noticed, but I hope you enjoy anyway. I’ll try to update once a week from now on, so stay tuned.😘
> 
> Prompt by: Sagyunaro on Tumblr  
> https://sagyunaro.tumblr.com/post/188879565007/prompt-for-anyone-wishing-to-write-it
> 
> Find this fic on my Tumblr Blog: JLovesBats  
> https://jaylovesbats.tumblr.com/post/189484815566/chapter-9-so-i-was-met-by-the-realization-i

*** // ARTHUR’S POV // ***

Staggering back to the couch, he spotted the sandwich he prepared earlier, laying forgotten on the dirty floor of the kitchen. That was for naught. Chuckling lightly, he lowered himself onto the couch carefully, the pain in his leg now excruciating.

His vision was spotted with dark patches and he felt like passing out, so laying down was the only thing he could do right now. Glancing down along his body, he saw that the sloppily applied bandage on his leg was already completely soaked with blood. For a graze, that bullet wound was surely bleeding like hell.

An accident. Car crash. Things were starting to add up in his mind and he desperately tried to make sense of them through the fog in his head and the ringing in his ears.

At first he thought you just wanted to play him. Taking the easy way out of your marriage, saying you couldn’t remember. He even thought, he might have been wrong about your identity after all.

But after kissing you, it became painfully certain, that it was indeed you. You still tasted the same. Sweet and warm and so utterly delicious, just thinking about it made him lightheaded in a whole different way than any injury could cause.

And then there was the question of what Mrs Larkin had told him about you. She said you had left. That you couldn’t do this anymore. Was it true? He couldn’t know. You didn’t seem to remember. And it didn’t matter now anyway, or that’s what his brain tried to tell him. His heart didn’t accept it though. There wasn’t anything that mattered to him in this world, besides you.

Sighing deeply, he looked up to the ceiling, feeling devastated. A frown deepened the exhausted lines on his face. He had told you, you were free to leave. There was nothing else he could have done. You already thought he was a crazy stalker and forcing you to stay would only reinforce that suspicion.

He started to feel depressed. If you didn’t remember, he couldn’t even do anything about it. You wouldn’t understand. Now the both of you weren’t connected like you were before, not anymore. Hell, you didn’t even remember him one bit. It felt like his wife died and only her body stayed around.

Closing his eyes, he uttered another deep and defeated sigh, as tears began to sting painfully behind his eyelids.

He heard footsteps. You were leaving. He wanted to say goodbye. But he felt scared, it would be the last time he would see you and he just couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes, his brows drawing together in distress and sorrow, the frown on his lips deepening even further.

He could never make you happy again. You were scared of him. During the kiss he thought, even just for a second, that you still loved him. You were melting against him so perfectly, it was heaven. But it was only a fleeting moment. Maybe that was your goodbye. The only one he would get.

Lost in his thoughts, he had lost track of his surroundings and he couldn’t hear any footsteps anymore. His heart sank, as he swallowed down a sob, that tried to force its way out of his throat.

‘Are you in pain?’ your voice said, startling him, forcing him to open his eyes wide. Maybe he was hallucinating again? There you were. Standing right in front of the couch beside him. Why would you stay?

'You sure as hell look like you are.’ you said, a slightly annoyed tone to your voice, your expression skeptical. Your body was turned sideways, while your arms were crossed. You looked him all over, your gaze stopping at the wound in his leg.

'N-no, it’s nothing… The bullet just grazed me.’ he replied weakly, momentarily embarrassed. His face must have looked like he had been in a tremendous amount of pain. Which was true. But it wasn’t the physical pain that made his face contort like that.

'You sure as hell suck at patching yourself up.’ you said, kneeling down beside the couch, meeting him at eye-level. Your scent was waving over him like a wave as you lowered yourself onto the floor. You seemed pretty damn real to him. And the apartment door was still closed.

'I did a pretty good job with your head though.’ he answered with a weak voice, smiling smugly. You were still here, no matter if you were real or not. Just seeing you made all the depressed thoughts disappear.

'Yeah. And then you decided to go make yourself a sandwich. Real classy.’ you said with sarcasm in your voice, one eyebrow lifted up in annoyance. 'Let me at least return the favor. I don’t think you’ll be able to move properly anytime soon.’

You started rummaging through the first aid kit on the floor, while his eyes were glued to your face. He was startled by your response. You talked to him, although still suspicious and sarcastic. You were joking. If this was a hallucination, it sure was a pretty weird one.

And you were nagging like you had been all those times you had patched him up before. You wanted to take care of his wounds. No way, you weren’t real. No way you weren’t yourself anymore. You were still his wife. He just needed to make you remember.

'You don’t want to leave?’ he asked carefully, his voice frail.

'Don’t worry, I will. I’m just not the type of person to leave you here, bleeding out on the couch.’

You pulled out pads, a bandage and some tape, along with a pair of scissors, as he watched you closely. Suddenly your cheeks turned red as you looked between the first aid kit and his leg.

'Uhm. So… I uh. I’ll just cut of the leg of your pants, I suppose.’ you stuttered out. It made him chuckle.

'No, don’t worry about it, I’ll just take them off.’, he said with a smirk.

'NO! God, no! I mean, don’t.’ you argued, as he pulled himself up into a sitting position with a pained groan. Your expression was adorable. He knew it made you uncomfortable and he was somewhat enjoying it.

'It’s not a big deal Sweetie, you saw me with less clothes on.’ he said, smiling at you as he stood up with some effort, shrugging out of his coat and suit jacket to continue and unbuckle his belt.

'FUCK NO, STOP! Seriously!’ you begged him furiously, not even able to look in his direction, holding your hands up in front of yourself. 'You may say that, but as I don’t know you, you sure as hell shouldn’t or I’ll leave straight away and you can fucking bleed out with your pants down your damn ankles, I swear to God!’, you argued hurriedly, while your face was bright red by now.

He laughed wholeheartedly. You were just too adorable.

'You still swear like a sailor, I love it!’ he exclaimed happily while still laughing. He had always been on the polite side of communication, Penny had raised him that way. And it had been a huge shock to him when he met you, how uninhibited you threw around insults and swear words. With some time though, he began to find it amusing, although more than a little different from his usual.

Suddenly, a heavy wave of dizziness hit him. He had stood up too fast. Staggering, his knees gave away from under him he fell back onto the couch, his head falling onto the backrest while his limbs were tingling and numb.

'Oh, shit! You shouldn’t move too much!’ you said hurriedly, while helping him to lay back down carefully. Your hands on his arms and neck felt distant because of the numbness, but not any less intense.

'I’ll cut the damn fabric off now.’ you said, your ears still bright red, but your face now sporting worry instead of embarrassment. His breathing became more shallow and he felt his consciousness slipping.

'Shame… They were pretty expensive…’ he mumbled breathlessly, his eyes falling shut again and he passed out.

*** // READER’S POV // ***

His eyes fell shut and his face relaxed. He obviously passed out. You stared at the man with the painted face for a few seconds, just enjoying that you didn’t have to keep your guard up, now that he had lost consciousness.

'Expensive, huh…?’ you mumbled, while fidgeting with the fabric of his pant leg, you noticed it felt indeed like it was expensive. It was smooth, almost silky, in a deep shade of red and the fabric practically slid over the skin of your fingers.

Once again you took in the state of the apartment. You wondered how a man could afford such an expensive suit, while his apartment looked like absolute shit. He must have set his priorities pretty damn weirdly.

The clothes did look awesome though. Now that the coat and the suit jacket laid forgotten on the floor, you noticed the shirt and the waistcoat really accentuated his slender frame, hugging his body like only individually tailored pieces would do.

Passed out like that, he looked weak and frail, not at all dangerous. You noticed one of his hands was swollen and bruised badly. The thumb didn’t look good, more like it was broken and had not been set properly.

His face looked soft and gentle, even with the clown make-up on. His brows were even and full, his lashes long and thick. His cheek- and jawbones looked sharp and handsome, while his lips were set in a straight line. A few deep wrinkles decorated his face, although you knew he was in his mid-thirties.

After you had seen him on the news the other day, you had been obsessed with finding out more about him and practically studied the whole story of his debut as a criminal. His age was mentioned several times, mainly stated with his mugshot after the escape from Arkham.

You still didn’t manage to actually believe this whole situation. Had you really been married to this man before the accident? He could have mistaken you for somebody else. And you couldn’t know for sure, if he wasn’t indeed a lunatic that has stalked you since crossing paths with you some time in the past.

Although, letting you leave seemed awfully uncharacteristic for a person that wanted to keep you with him under any circumstances. Also, why was he at the apartment building? You didn’t think anyone had followed you there, so it could have been just a coincidence, right?

And he kept crying and being really emotional… When he told you about the marriage and about the dress you wore, your heart had fluttered. His eyes expressed nothing but absolute love and warmth then.

You just couldn’t imagine, someone would be able to act these kinds of feelings, being impaired like he was, losing blood profusely and after you had practically threatened him with a razor.

What he told you left you beyond confused. And you had no idea how to resolve this situation.

So you tried concentrating on the task at hand, cutting the fabric just above the wound on his thigh. You felt ashamed about your reaction, when he offered to take them off. Somehow the thought of him undressing in front of you made you feel weird and embarrassed. It should have scared you. But you weren’t scared. Just somewhat… Well. If you didn’t know any better, you would call it shy.

Under any different circumstances it would have been the logical thing to do to just take them off, just as long as the wounded person could still move. Well, now he couldn’t, leaving you no choice, as to cut it off.

As you started cleaning the wound with disinfectant, you noticed he started to stir under you. He groaned in pain. It had to hurt, you were sure of it. The sharp pain probably pulled him from unconsciousness, as you saw his eyes slowly fluttered open again.

You decided, the best thing to do would be to just get it over with and leave. Maybe at home, you would be able to sort this whole mess out somehow, when you were alone and able to think.

'W-why were you at the apartment complex?’ he questioned quietly.

'Jesus, you sure are curious, huh?’ When he didn’t react in any way, you said 'I was there to see a woman. I think she recognized me the other day and I wanted to ask her about it.’ you answered shortly, matter-of-factly.

'Sophie?’ he asked.

'Y-yeah. Sophie Dumond. I only figured her name out earlier. How do you know?’ you wondered how he knew the woman. Dread was filling your stomach and you ceased your actions of cleaning his wound for the moment, your eyes seeking his.

'She was my neighbor. I used to live there.’ he explained slowly, rearranging his posture a little, so he could look at you better.

'You lived there?’ you remembered how the apartment complex seemed so familiar to you when you stumbled upon it first and… Could that really be?

'Yeah. You used to visit me pretty often. Also back when my mom was still alive. Sophie saw us a few times, we chatted occasionally, but not that often. She has always been one of the few nice people around.’ he said, observing you with an intense stare.

Your hands started shaking while angry tension seized your body. Relaxing yourself forcefully, you got back to work on his leg, now applying the pad and the bandage.

'Well, not that nice to me it seems, because she threw the fucking door in my face.’ you said, not able to keep the annoyed tone out of your voice.

Suddenly he started laughing loudly, his whole body shaking, while his face contorted in amused mirth.

'WHAT?’ you demanded to know with a loud voice, his reaction annoying you even further.

'Haha, ha. Well, you never liked her. You didn’t like how she smiled at me. I think you were somewhat jealous. At first you tried to hide it, but I always saw. Then one day, you finally admitted, you didn’t want me to be so nice to her, to not encourage any hopes she might have had. I told you that was ridiculous, that she would never want to be with someone like me, but you were beyond serious about it. You were fuming with anger, anytime you saw her. And I think she might have picked up on that.’ he explained, while still giggling relentlessly.

'That IS ridiculous.’ you mumbled, looking away, concentrating on patching the man up.

'I found it rather flattering… I thought it was impossible for someone to become jealous over me. But you did. And it made me really happy.’ he said, a gentle smile forming on his lips, while his eyes laid on you affectionately.

'Whatever. I didn’t manage to talk to her. So I’ll have to try again.’

'Don’t. You know how she knows you now. And whoever bothered you today will be there again. What was that all about by the way? Who were those guys?’

'I have no fucking clue. They followed me upstairs and tried to make me leave. They said she was being stalked and they were hired to protect her from anyone unfamiliar. And on the way down, they attacked me when I struggled.’

'Well. Those two won’t do that ever again.’ he mumbled, his voice slightly vexed, while his lips pulled into a slight frown and his eyes left your face.

'What did you-… Fuck, forget it, I don’t even want to know.’ you said hurriedly, remembering who he was and that he must have killed them, while finishing the bandages with a piece of tape and standing up afterwards.

'Done. Do me a favor and leave me alone from now on. I won’t ask you again.’ you stated with as much authority as you could muster, trying to regain some control over the situation.

'IT’S NOT LIKE I FOLLOWED YOU AROUND, YOU KNOW?!’ he suddenly yelled, standing up suddenly, limping to the kitchen angrily, leaving you completely baffled by his change of mood. Just a minute ago, he was laughing and looking at you with gentle eyes and now this.

'What is your fucking problem?!’ you yelled after him, your patience running short with his erratic behavior. You patched him up and this was his way of thanking you? Like hell! You walked after him, seeing him pacing up and down in the kitchen without a purpose.

'What my fucking problem is?? My therapist told me, my wife has left me when I was in Arkham. That she couldn’t take this anymore! And now you say you’ve been in an accident and can’t remember a thing about ME, about US and our MARRIAGE and this is just fucking CRUEL!’ he ranted, explosive anger in his eyes while he gesticulated wildly.

Somehow, you didn’t feel scared rather than even more riled up. All these accusations and you had no idea about any of it, you didn’t even know that man and he treated you like shit.

'You know what? Probably your wife, WHICH I AM NOT, had about enough of your shit, if you acted with her like you do now with me! Not even mentioning you killing a bunch of people! I can certainly see a reason or two for her to leave!’

'YOU ARE MY WIFE!’ he growled and walked straight towards you, his face now only an inch from yours.

'No, I AM NOT! And you HAVE to be a stalker, or else you wouldn’t have MY FUCKING PERFUME propped up in your bathroom! What did you do, watch me in my apartment? You fucking creep!’ you accused him.

'NO, I DIDN’T! You have used that fucking perfume ever since I met you all that time ago! And you were pretty damn fine with the things I did and I always treated you like a goddess! Don’t you dare accuse me of treating you badly or stalking you, I never did!’ he yelled straight into your face, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

'Well, you certainly do NOW, yelling at me like that after I patched up your fucking leg!’ you argued, daring him to do something. You wouldn’t let him blame you for his fucking misery, that was just unfair.

'You want me to thank you for that??’ he asked through gritted teeth, raising his eyebrows, his jaw muscles wound tight, while a cruel smile took place on his lips. You noticed, his whole body was shaking.

'I could very well have left you bleeding out on the couch, so YEAH, a thank you would be pretty damn decent!’ you spat out angrily, while you stemmed your fists in your hips, leaning forward even more, your nose now almost touching his.

'FINE! You can have that!’ he said loudly, staring at you heatedly, while licking his lips. A few seconds of silence followed and nothing happened. His stare became unbearable as his scent was invading your lungs. You could almost taste him.

'Well, bring it then! I’m done waiting! I’ve got better things to do, than standing here, arguing with a lunatic that doesn’t even-’ you started, but he didn’t let you finish.

He crashed his lips against yours harshly, grabbing the fabric of your shirt and pulling you closer violently. Heat was creeping up your neck instantly, while you groaned into his mouth, your hands forcefully grabbing his arms, intending to hurt.

You didn’t push him away though. And your body was full on auto-pilot. Your thoughts were pretty much non-existent at this point. Which felt good. You didn’t want to think.

You didn’t want to worry about your situation any longer, wondering about your past, trying to deal with the present, attempting to please everyone around you, like Mrs Parker or Benjamin. It was all gone now.

There was only him.

His scent was delicious and overwhelming, while his taste was pretty much the same, but more intense, sharp and rich, stained by face-paint and a faint leftover of cigarette smoke.

It was addicting. You felt shivers running down your spine, igniting a furious fire in your belly that had already started to spark when you had yelled at each other.

It didn’t matter, if you were actually his wife or if he was a stalker or if he mistook you for someone else.

Right now, you wanted that man. You wanted to drown in him and you wanted to forget for just a second, what a mess your life has become.

You were leaning into him, deepening the kiss, which had him moan into you. Then you pushed him against the door frame to the kitchen, making him hiss in pain. Good. You wanted him to be in pain. You didn’t want this to be easy for him.

He tangled a fist in your hair and pulled hard, while his other one grabbed your waist forcefully. He explored your curves and you loved the pressure and the intensity of his touch.

His tongue was exploring yours in soft and fluid movements, leaving you breathless and wanting more. He pulled your head back more, pressing his heated lips on the sensitive skin of your neck, which made you release a deep moan of relief.

Your arms were coming up around his shoulders, hugging him tight, as your hands were tangling through his slicked back hair, tousling it in the process. He was pushing you against the opposite side of the door frame, suddenly lifting you up by your thighs, which had you immediately spreading your legs, wrapping them around his hips.

'Y/N…’ He mumbled heatedly against your skin, a shudder running through your body.

’M-my name is Jeannie.’ you managed to say, your breathing labored.

'No, you’re mine. Y/N. You’re my wife. You’re my everything.’ he said, his lips traveling back up to yours, kissing you deeply once again.

'Please… You need to remember…’ he mumbled in between kisses.

'Stop talking.’ you whispered, cupping his cheek, taking in with half-lidded eyes just how much you ruined his meticulous make-up.

'Y/N, please…’ he said, looking at you with teary eyes, the anger now slowly making space for something else.

He let go of your thighs, leaving you slipping down, standing on your own two feet again.

He took your left hand from his shoulders, holding up the hand between the two of you. With his teeth he removed the fabric of your clothes from the wrist, revealing the J shaped scar you had noticed back in the hospital.

He kissed the scar, obviously aware of it being there from the start.

A jolt of panic surged through you, as things became too real much too fast.

'The first day you visited me at Arkham, you showed me this. It had been fresh, just beginning to heal.’ he said, while his lips kept ghosting over the sensitive skin.

'N-no. Stop…’, you stuttered.

'I kept telling you to leave. I kept telling you, everything would change after the show, but you didn’t care. Which makes it all the more weird, that you left me after all…’ he mumbled, his eyebrows drawn together in concern.

You attempted to move, but his other hand was firmly holding you in place at your waist.

'I never asked you to do that. I would never… But you did. You told me, you accepted me for who I really was. You loved me. No matter what would happen from then on.’ his voice rang in your ears, while all the heat from before became cold in your veins.

'J. For Joker.’ the words were soft as a feather on your skin, but also sharp as a razor, that brought back all the anxiety and insecurity from before.

Your pulse was picking up as you started to feel lightheaded. You sight became unfocused, your head once again aching painfully, right where your injury had been.

He cupped your face gently, moving your chin up to face him, looking at you with intense eyes. He was serious.

What if all of this was real? What if that was your husband?

Tears were threatening to spill from your eyes, as you parted your lips to say something. But no word was leaving your throat. Just a pathetic little sound, much too close to a sob.

'Y/N?’ he looked at you with concern in his eyes, his hand on your chin loosening.

'I-… I need to think. I c-can’t remember. I can’t…’ you managed with some effort, while your voice was cracking up.

He released your hand, his other one falling from your face and took a step back, inhaling deeply, obviously trying to find some composure.

'Go home. Rest. This was probably just too much all at once. I’m sorry.’ he said, his eyes falling to the floor, while a deep sigh left his chest and a frown appeared on his face.

You were still staring at him with wide eyes, not able to process any of this.

One of your hands moved automatically, as it cupped his cheek, making him look up momentarily.

'I’ll be back.’ you said. You wanted to clear things up. Just as soon as you could make sense of it.

'Okay…’ he mumbled with a distantly brave voice, his hands fidgeting nervously.

You walked towards the door, as you heard him call after you.

'Y/N. Take the baseball bat with you. It’s not safe outside.’ he said, pointing to a spot next to the entrance door.

There it was. You grabbed it, throwing only one last glance back at him, still staring at you with his deep green eyes and an unreadable expression.

As the door fell shut behind you, it felt like you left something important behind.

As if you knew him.

As if he meant something to you.

And you may not have known a lot right now, but deep down, you knew he did mean SOMETHING.

You just had to figure out, what that was.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are processing your encounter with Joker, as Mrs Parker is desperately trying to handle the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, almost two months, a lot of real life happenings and a major writer’s block later, I’m back on my bullshit and proudly introduce to you the new chapter. Took me long enough, sorry. *slapping myself in the face* Hope you enjoy!😘 💜JLovesBats💚

*** // READER’S POV // ***

_*_

_You walked into an apartment you didn’t recognize, but it felt like home. The heavy smell of cigarettes and a faint tinge of flowery perfume hung in the air and the orange evening sun was shining through the windows._

_‘Hello?’ you heard a female voice calling from the kitchen to your left. You spotted a woman standing at the counter, wearing a floral dress and red lipstick._

_'Hi, Penny. It’s just me.’ you said, not even remembering how you knew her name, or if it even was the right one._

_'Oh dear, I didn’t expect you. Have a seat, Arthur is late today.’ she said, preparing some food to microwave it._

_Wait. Did she say Arthur?_

_'Penny, how about you sit down and I’ll prepare the food? You shouldn’t be standing up for too long. Next time just give me a call when Arthur is late, I can help you out.’ you offered almost automatically. The woman seemed frail and you just knew she was sick. But how did you know that?_

_'Thank you so much, dear! Don’t forget to add some seasoning, it always tastes so bland straight from the package.’ she said, handing you the package of instant oatmeal. She walked to the bedroom and not much later you heard the TV being switched on._

_You just started to prepare the food, as the apartment door opened and Arthur entered the doorway._

_Arthur. The same man you had met the other day at the park. You were absolutely confused._

_'Oh. Hi Sweetie! I didn’t think you’d be here before me. Sorry to make you wait.’ you heard him say, looking apologetic and shy. 'I got into some trouble at work, that’s why it took so long.’ he said, sighing deeply and walking towards you, fidgeting with his hands._

_'Darling, don’t apologize, it’s alright. You’re not hurt again, are you?’ you asked him, taking his hands into yours gently, making him look at you. He was avoiding your gaze persistently._

_'Nah, I’m fine. Just got into an argument with Hoyt about my last job.’ he said, spotting the food for Penny over your shoulder. 'Oh, I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to do that! Let me-’_

_'Arthur. Stop. Please, look at me. Are you really okay?’ you asked him, cupping his cheek with your right hand. His skin was cold and his hair still somewhat wet from the rain outside._

_Uhm. Rain? Hadn’t the sun been shining through the windows just a minute ago? You threw a look over to the windows and it was dark and indeed rainy. Gotham’s weird weather once again…_

_A satisfied sigh pulled you from your thoughts._

_'Your hand is so warm. I love it.’ Arthur said, snuggling his cheek into your palm, which made you look back at him, spotting a gentle smile on his features._

_Suddenly, there was slow swing music playing in the background, but you couldn’t spot the source._

_'Ah! That’s one of my favorites! Come, dance with me Y/N!’ he said enthusiastically, pulling you along to the living room, where there was more space. He took your hand in his, laid his other one on your hips and started dancing gracefully, leading you around the room, a genuine smile on his lips._

_'Arthur, stop calling me Y/N, my name is Jeannie.’ you scolded him, trying to keep up with his movements. You didn’t even know why you were so calm or why you were here in the first place. But all you wanted to do was be with him for some reason. Your stomach fluttered._

_'Yeah. And my name’s Steve.’ he laughed incredulously._

_'Arthur, I’m serious! Y/N is not my name.’ you argued, looking at him somewhat annoyed. But his expression only became more soft. Then he pulled you close to his chest, hugging your waist, your head leaning against his shoulder._

_He smelled so good, the delicious scent of his perfume invading your lungs. It smelled like home. You closed your eyes and relaxed into the soothing rhythm of the dance, swaying in his arms._

_'Your Y/N. My wife. I love you so much.’ he whispered into your ear and it made shivers run down your spine. You felt like you were drunk, your cheeks turned red and you hid your face in the crook of his neck as he laughed softly._

_You had no idea who Y/N was, but you wanted to be her. For him. You wanted to be his wife. You wanted him to love you. Arthur…_

_Weird thoughts crossed your mind. Like, that he was always doing his best, working so much and people treated him the worst way. Just because he was himself._

_No. They probably treated him badly, because he was the Joker. Right? Because of all the horrible things he did._

_'I feel like I know you.’ you said, as things got more and more confusing in your head._

_'Well, you better. We’ve been married for some time, Sweetie.’ he mumbled, but his voice sounded slightly different now. More sure and charismatic, not at all shy anymore._

_As the both of you swayed to the rhythm, you opened your eyes, only to spot red fabric over his skin, feeling silky smooth texture beneath your fingertips, taking the place of the cotton shirt he wore before._

_Your reaction was immediate, as your cheeks turned red and your heart jumped exitedly. You looked up at his face and there it was. His face in clown makeup. And his hair was green. He was the Joker. Suddenly. You took in his appearance somewhat confused, stopping at his eyes._

_They were green as well. A much softer and warmer green, but vibrant nonetheless, glowing in the rays of sunshine resting on his features._

_Sunshine? Whatever, you didn’t even care about that weird weather anymore and didn’t dare to look away. Nothing in the world could take your eyes off that man right now._

_He was so handsome. It didn’t matter who he was. If anything at all, you found it thrilling. He was dangerous and exciting._

_'What will you do with me?’ you asked him with a shaky voice, while your knees became somewhat weak under his gaze. He looked at you so heatedly and loving, it made warmth spread in your stomach._

_'Oh, I know a thing or two that I’d like to do with you right now… And you would love it.’ he murmured with a raspy voice, a satisfied sigh leaving his throat as he closed his eyes for a few seconds and his smile widened._

_Your heartbeat was going crazy and as he opened his eyes again, you were sure, he saw the reaction he had caused within you. A lewd smirk appeared on his red lips, only accentuated by the wide painted smile on his face._

_'Then do it.’ you whispered, leaning into him closer, his face now almost touching yours._

_'As you wish.’ he sighed with a shaky voice, full of relief, as he leaned into you and his lips met yours in a kiss that took your breath away. His lips were hot and soft and you could practically taste the lipstick._

_You sighed in pleasure, as his hand threaded through your hair and he grabbed the back of your head. Shivers ran all the way from the head, down your neck, over your spine, until they arrived between your legs, making you tingle in anticipation._

_You felt like you were flying. Weightless and warm and everything vibrated internally, electricity sparking every place he touched. A weak moan left your throat, as he deepened the kiss gently. He tasted like the most delicious thing you could imagine. And you felt like you were starving._

_When he parted from the kiss, you opened your eyes. You were in the bedroom, the sun still shining through the half closed curtains. You had no idea how you even got here, you must have been too delirious from the kiss you had just received, to notice anything else._

_It wasn’t enough though, you wanted more. You wanted to feel him. But a thought suddenly struck you._

_'Where is Penny?’ you said, taking in your surroundings._

_'Don’t worry about her. She’s gone now.’ he said with a cool toned voice, his eyes overshadowing with something dark that was scary and thrilling at the same time._

_'Better for her. I bet she’d faint watching.’ you said, making him chuckle._

_Impatiently, your hands were fumbling at the lapels of his suit jacket, trying to take it off, but he only grabbed them, giggled and held your hands still in one of his._

_'And here I was and thought, you wanted me to take the lead, not the other way around.’ he said with a devilish smile, taking in your scent deeply as his head moved from the side of your face down to your neck and your collarbones. You shivered, as his lips grazed your skin and his other hand came up to caress the other side of your neck just as feather-light and gently._

_A breeze ghosting over your back and legs caught your attention and as you looked down, you noticed you were completely naked._

_Startled, you jumped a little._

_'Why am I not wearing any clothes all of a sudden??’ you asked him somewhat disturbed and more than a bit frightened._

_'Well, that’s the point of what we are about to do, in case you hadn’t noticed.’ he mumbled into your skin, holding you tight against him, as his hand wandered around your body, squeezing your hips and moving lower. It made goosebumps shower your skin in a cascade-like sensation._

_'Jesus, you’re so soft. And you smell like heaven. I wanna devour you.’ he groaned into your ear._

_'J-Joker?’ you stuttered out, as your body reacted automatically, your privates tingling in anticipation, enjoying his touch. His voice was low and you knew, you should be scared. That you shouldn’t do this. But you wanted to._

_'I missed you so much… Finally, I can touch you again. Y/N…’ he said, his voice deep, holding so much want and desperation, it made your heart ache._

_'C-can I take off your clothes as well?’ you asked him somewhat insecure. Being exposed like this while he was still fully dressed felt somewhat weird. Although his touch didn’t become any less arousing._

_'Do you really want me to take them off?’ he questioned with a light chuckle, while his fingertips now ghosted up and down your back. You arched your back at the tingly sensation._

_You stared at him confusedly. Of course you wanted that._

_Your eyes roamed his figure as he took a step back and a little noise of displeasure left your throat at losing the touch that had felt so so good before._

_He looked incredibly handsome in that suit and together with the makeup he looked hauntingly beautiful, the sly smile adorning his lips only adding to your fascination. Your eyes felt on fire, staring at him like that. You were in awe._

_And he wasn’t doing any better, his eyes grew dark as his gaze roamed your figure, making you feel even more naked than you already were. You were completely at his mercy. And you just wanted to close your eyes and let go. Let him do whatever he wanted._

_You noticed that he was already hard, straining his dress pants and his hands were shaking at his sides._

_Licking your lips, you felt his gaze follow the movement. He looked like a hungry animal. Your heart skipped a beat._

_'Keep them on, just come back here, please.’ you begged. It was a miracle that your voice was still working, your throat was slowly seizing up with anticipation and excitement._

_And having him like this, in this outfit, somehow managed to make the whole thing even more exciting. Because you couldn’t ignore the fact, who he was. Actually, it really turned you on. He was unpredictable and dangerous and somehow, that man wanted you out of so many others he could probably have._

_His inviting smile, full of sharp teeth, was the only permission you needed, as you walked towards him hurriedly and pulled him back against you in an open-mouthed kiss. He groaned into you, as his hands squeezed your curves deliciously, making you moan._

_They kneaded your backside forcefully, almost enough to hurt, wandering lower and lower. You loved it. You preferred this kind of touch compared to soft ones anytime. His hands were so close to your aching wetness, it made you desperate with want._

_Suddenly, he pulled you around in a sharp motion, making your head spin and your backside clash with his body. It only startled you for a second, until your body catched up with what you felt. Pressed up against him like this, you could feel his hard length pressed against your curves. You forgot how to breathe._

_As one of his hands grabbed your neck roughly, the other one gathering your arms behind your back as he growled into your ear heatedly._

_'Your mine. Mine alone. Let me show you…’ he drawled into your ear with a lewd, deep voice._

_The statement was clear. He was in control. Yes. And God, it felt so good._

_'Yes, please.’ you breathed out quietly with a husky voice, nodding to make the point clear, in case he didn’t hear._

_He pushed you onto the bed roughly, as he straddled your legs from above, leaning down to bite into the flesh of your shoulder, making you moan out loudly, in pain and pleasure._

_He sat up again, releasing your arms, although still keeping hold of your neck. You moved your arms up, laying them on either side of your head, grabbing the sheets desperately._

_You couldn’t see what he was doing, while your face was buried in the soft blankets. But you could hear his breathing was labored, which just added to the thrill._

_You were glad he couldn’t see your face, it was probably burning red by now._

_His hand roamed your back, squeezing in just the right places to make you squirm beneath him. They ghosted over your curves, relishing your soft skin. You moved a hand over your mouth and tried not to make a noise, feeling embarrassed by the urge to moan uninhibitedly._

_'So beautiful… Exposed like that, just for me. You drive me crazy.’ he moaned, as one of his hands wandered lower, while the other one stayed on your neck, holding it firmly. You couldn’t move an inch._

_His fingers parted your cheeks and slowly moved towards your wet folds. You knew what he was doing and you arched your back painfully to make it easier for him to reach. You started feeling lightheaded by how fast your breathing had become._

_His fingers dove in deep between your legs, reaching your dripping entrance without resistance._

_’ Oh God, you’re so wet… Just for me.’ he moaned, his hand shaking with excitement._

_He moved further, reaching your clit and massaging it painstakingly slowly._

_Your breath stuttered at the touch, pleasure coiling tight in your stomach. You wanted him inside you. You needed more. But he kept on circling your clit, going neither faster nor slower._

_'A-Arthur, stop teasing me already…’ you mumbled into the sheets, your voice unsteady._

_'Oh, but I love to tease you so much. What do you want me to do instead? Tell me, Sweetie… I wanna hear you say it. Beg me.’ He commanded, his voice dropping an octave by the end of the demand._

_You almost lost your patience.This was beyond embarrassing. You just wanted him to do it, why did he make you say it?_

_'This is awful, please don’t make me say it. You know what I want.’ you argued impatiently._

_Suddenly his hand grabbed your neck harder, reaching around to squeeze your throat. Adrenaline was flooding your veins, as a jolt of fear surged through you. But also you felt yourself aching for him even more, another rush of pleasure wrecking your body._

_Squeezing your eyes shut, you told yourself, you absolutely shouldn’t like this. What was wrong with you? Mrs Parker had told you not to fall for him. But your body was quivering beneath him, reveling in his touch anyway._

_You KNEW this was wrong. Or did you not?_

_You were married to him. He said you two were married. You didn’t know what to believe anymore as you turned your head to push deeper into the blankets, hiding your face from his gaze._

_'Y/N.’ he said. Calling that name again. You stayed still, not moving an inch, not making a sound as your eyes burned with unshed tears._

_'Y/N, look at me.’ you heard him mumbling, right into your ear, while his still clothed body pressed against your back._

_When you still didn’t move, he turned you around forcefully, pinning you down by your hands as you struggled. You absolutely didn’t want to face him. So you kept your head turned sideways and your eyes shut as hard as you could._

_Nothing happened for a second and somewhere deep inside, suddenly the fear of losing him popped up. As if he’d just disappear and that he would be gone when you opened your eyes._

_When you felt hot lips on yours, gently moving and pressing close in a heavenly touch, you felt the unshed tears falling down your cheeks, his delicious smell hugging your senses in a warm embrace._

_'I’m right here, Sweetie. I won’t go anywhere.’ he whispered against your lips, as if he knew what you were thinking. You released a sob._

_'I want to be her, I want to be your Y/N, your wife, but I am not!’ you started crying openly, not even caring anymore if he saw._

_'Of course you are. I love you. And you belong to me. You can feel it, right? Stop thinking… Just be here. With me.’ he mumbled, now gently caressing your cheeks and looking deep into your eyes._

_'B-But what about Mrs Parker…? She said, I can’t be with you. And I can’t remember. I don’t know what to do…’ you said, your voice cracking with all the twisted emotions you felt._

_Silence washed over the both of you, like a bucket of cold water._

_He didn’t say anything, so you looked up only to find him staring at you, looking apathetic, his eyes unfocused._

_'What do you want, Jeannie?’ he asked, his voice suddenly emotionless, his expression turning cold as he straightened his body and looked down at you._

_'Arthur?’_

_'Jeannie. You’ll never be her.’ he said, your heart aching with the pain his words caused, no matter how calmly he had uttered them._

_But his demeanor quickly changed into one of anger, as you saw the corners of his mouth morph into a frown and his eyes being casted in shadow by an expression of unhidden rage._

_When he began to speak again, his voice was rough and mean,_

_'There’s no point in doing this, you know that. Stop playing with my feelings.’ he growled out, giving you a good scare as his voice became more loud. He sounded like he hated you. As if he despised your whole being._

_'What?? Arthur, STOP! You’re scaring me!’ you yelled pathetically, struggling, but Arthur’s grip was unrelenting on your arms and he was unmoving like a marble statue, his eyes dead as he stared down at you. No reaction at all._

_Cold sweat broke out on your naked skin._

_All of a sudden, you heard a knocking and Penny’s voice calling your name, Jeannie, over and over again. Becoming louder by the second, but she was nowhere in sight._

_'Do you wanna hear a joke?’ you heard Arthur ask, his voice flat and emotionless. You noticed your hands were free now, and as your gaze went back to him sitting on top of you, to his face, you saw he held a gun to his temple, while his face was holding no expression whatsoever._

_If anything, he looked tired._

_'NO!!!’ you screamed, just the moment he pulled the trigger._

_The loud bang and Penny’s voice calling your name, melted into a deafening crescendo of painful sound, mixed with your own blood-curling screams and you felt warm liquid meet your skin in a splash._

*

With a loud gasp you practically jumped up from your mattress, coming to stand on shaky legs, grabbing at your face frantically while still feeling the ghostly left-over sensation of warm blood being splattered across your face.

You were hyperventilating. There was a burning pain in your chest and you were scared you were dying. Your ears were ringing loudly and you had trouble orienting yourself, as you took in your surroundings hastily.

Where was he? Where was Arthur? And where were you?

It took you a few seconds to even recognize your own apartment and even then everything seemed strangely out of place and unfamiliar. What you also noticed was that you were alone.

There was nobody here other than you.

You felt absolutely lost and sank back down, curling up against the nearest wall, pulling your legs close to your chest. Breathing was hard and painful as the air came in through your seized up throat and your thoughts were racing as you watched your hands shake.

Everything felt like too much all at once and you wanted it to stop. You attempted hiding your face behind your palms, but at touching your face, you noticed a patch of fabric, covering one side of your forehead.

Right. He patched you up. Arthur. The Joker.

Slowly, things from the previous day creeped back into your memory and you regained the sense of reality you had lost because of that… Well. You figured, it must have been a horrible nightmare.

It was Saturday. Yesterday you tried talking to Sophie.

Yesterday, you got hurt by those strange guys bothering you and you woke up at Joker’s place with a head-injury and some thrilling company.

Your heart started to race anew, upon remembering how emotionally exhausting and confusing that particular interaction went.

While you tried to calm your labored breathing, you remembered that the dream didn’t start as horrible, in fact it was intriguing and more than a bit arousing, and that might be even worse.

With heat quickly spreading in your cheeks you remembered how you had kissed him yesterday. Now you hid your face in your hands for real.

It was all so weird and you couldn’t make anything of your own feelings yet. All the things he told you. It was all so detailed and unique that you had a hard time believing he just made it up. Especially considering his own emotions bursting out throughout your interaction with him.

You had no idea, if he told the truth, but it didn’t feel like he was lying. In fact he didn’t even seem as if he wanted to harm or stalk you at all, he let you leave after all.

But you had no idea who he really was on a personal level. And you couldn’t really consider anything that happened in that dream as solid knowledge about him.

Although how detailed it was, left you wondering if that dream didn’t indeed involve some memories from before the accident.

Who was Penny? Who was Hoyt? Why were you so annoyed by people picking on him although he was always giving it his best? How would you even know that? And that apartment. Every little piece of furniture was clear as day in your mind, still.

What you knew for sure was that he was obviously capable of murder without giving a second thought, very clearly proven by the encounter at Sophie’s place.

The conflict of what to believe was so strong, you felt your stomach twist.

Truth was, you had just dreamed about him touching you, loving you, wanting you. And you wanted that as well. Just as you did yesterday. And no matter if he was lying about your marriage or not, you just couldn’t keep pretending you didn’t feel intrigued by him.

Arthur.

You repeated the name in your head, over and over again, while the deafening rush of your blood left your ears and you slowly catched your breath. That name shouldn’t feel so good to think. You would bet it felt even better to say it out loud.

Staring dreamily ahead into nothing, you took your left wrist and looked at the J shaped scar once again.

No. He couldn’t have made that up. Or could he? The headache was taking the place of the panic that had occupied you up until then and with a flinch, you tried untangling your limbs, to get your body to relax.

The ringing in your ears had subsided enough now, that you began hearing the loud knocking on your door and the voice of Mrs Parker calling your name in a somewhat concerned manner.

What did she want from you? She was only working from Monday to Friday, except from any emergencies that might pop up on the weekends. But you didn’t call her.

You slowly pulled yourself up, careful not to trip and fall, because your legs were still somewhat weak from the passing panic attack. Looking down at yourself, you noticed you were still wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

At least you weren’t naked, you thought. Which again, reminded you of the nightmare, so before your thoughts could linger anymore on the sensual part of the dream, you turned around with a shudder, and moved towards the apartment door to open it. Curious as to what Mrs Parker wanted.

*** // SOCIAL WORKER’S POV // ***

She did a miserable job in hiding how riled up she was. The police officer standing behind her surely saw, how antsy she was. But she was tired of hiding, that she was only human and worried about the people she cared for.

Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes as she kept calling your name, knocking on the door frequently. Never had she been so deeply worried for a client.

More than one of your neighbors had peaked out of the front door, to investigate the cause of the noise. They had been standing in front of your door for about ten minutes, when the police officer suddenly spoke up.

'Mrs Parker, the suspect is obviously not at home. We should stop wasting our time and put out a search request for the area, that way we’ll get her sooner.’ the officer mumbled somewhat discouraged and a little impatient.

'NO. I know she must be here. She doesn’t work today and she doesn’t have a whole lot of places to go.’ she said, continuing her approach, calling your name and knocking the door.

She had received a call from Fleck’s therapist, Mrs Larkin, in the early morning hours, informing her about the events of last night, about the two dead cops in civil attire and what Miss Dumond had told the cops.

You had been involved, that was for sure.

The only question presenting itself was, if you shot those guys or if the Joker was there as well. She didn’t think you were capable of doing something like that. And if this was Fleck’s doing, she was pretty sure, he was already watching and following you around wherever you went. Things were looking bad.

'Mam, I’m afraid I gotta leave you alone then, I have to follow my orders.’

'Alright, officer. You listen to me now!’ she yelled roughly, the last rest of her already thin patience wearing out. 'I have orders DIRECTLY from YOUR Commissioner and you will stay here and question my client under my watch or else, this isn’t gonna be funny for you anymore in about five minutes! Understood??’

'Y-Yes, Mam.’ he stuttered out with a thin voice, his face now concerned and pale. He was a young officer, in his late twenties or early thirties. In a city like Gotham you couldn’t afford to lose your job, especially if you didn’t have much resources or work experience to offer.

She hated herself for having to go to this extend to get him to comply, but she had no choice but to eradicate every obstacle that kept her from doing her work at this point.

What she said was not a lie, she had indeed called the police commissioner as soon as the call with Mrs Larkin was over, talking the details about when and how.

The officer met her at your apartment then.

On the way here, she had been thinking about how to best approach you and explain the situation with as little trouble as possible. It was annoying enough that you actually had to be questioned by the police, but in the current situation with as much evidence as they had, it was non-negotiable.

'Good.’ She said with an annoyed huff of air coming out of her nose, continuing her knocking on the door.

After two more minutes, she heard noises from inside the apartment. It was very small, so of course eavesdropping was effortlessly possible. She heard you breathing loudly, you obviously struggled with something. Upon hearing you, her knocking and calling your name became even more urgent.

Then, after another few minutes, the door finally opened and she almost choked upon seeing your face.

'Mrs Parker? How can I help you?’ you asked with a worn out voice, throwing a confused look at the police officer standing behind her.

The words got stuck in her throat, while she took in the state of your face.

There were bandages wrapped around your head, disheveled hair peeking out underneath it. A nasty bruise was decorating one side of your face, the darkest parts visible on your cheekbone. You looked like you had just cried, puffy eyes and swollen lips disfiguring your usually naturally beautiful face.

'Jeannie… What-What in the world happened to you?’ she asked, concern radiating off of her, a shocked expression on her face.

'I had a bad day and got into a fight. You know how it goes with the assholes in Gotham.’ you explained tiredly, still throwing occasional glances at the officer. 'We don’t have an appointment I forgot about, do we?’ you asked with a raised eyebrow.

'That’s horrible…! Are you okay? I mean, uh- No, don’t worry, we didn’t have an appointment. But I tried calling you earlier this morning and you didn’t answer it. Something important came up. Can I come in to talk in private?’ she asked you somewhat insecure.

While mustering the officer, you nodded and opened the door fully to let her in.

'Officer, please give us a minute, alright?’ she stated, looking back at him while already walking through the door. He nodded and took a stance at the opposite wall, now a little more composed than after she had scolded him.

She took a look around the apartment, worried it might look similarly disheveled as you did, but everything seemed tidy and normal. Except from the bed, the sheets were tangled, like you had just stood up before letting her in.

You closed the door behind her and didn’t follow her, as she took a seat at the tiny dinner table at the wall.

'I’m sorry for being so rude, but can you come straight to the point? Frankly, I’m in no mood to chat today and I wanna get some rest.’ you said, crossing your arms in front of you.

'Uh, sure.’ It was baffling to see you like this. You seemed on edge. Even more than the last times she had met you.

Actually she wanted to ask, what exactly happened to you, but she thought it might explain itself, if she got to the topic without further small talk.

'So. This morning I was informed by the police, that a woman fitting your description had been seen by several witnesses at a crime scene not far from here, yesterday. I work together closely with the police in many areas of my job, so I was contacted immediately. Officer Chase came here with me to question you about your whereabouts yesterday evening. I’m sorry to say, but you are a suspect in an ongoing investigation.’ she explained.

She was happy she had prepared what she would say before she had arrived here. This was a situation that had to be handled carefully.

You were not allowed to know a thing about her cooperation with Mrs Larkin and that anything was fishy regarding your past and Fleck himself.

But they also HAD to question you, because it wasn’t one hundred percent sure, you hadn’t been involved in the crime, no matter how much she wanted to believe that you were a good person. And Mrs Larkin had a point, when she mentioned her suspicion, of you maybe having picked up some violent tendencies of your former husband.

You stared at her somewhat confusedly and were momentarily speechless it seemed.

'Uhm. Alright, I think I need to sit down to process this.’ you said quietly, taking your time to walk over to the table and sit down in front of her. You cleared your throat then and finally made eye-contact with her again, looking troubled, eyebrows drawn together tightly.

'What crime are you talking about?’

'Oh, two men were found dead in said apartment complex. They were both shot with a small caliber fire weapon. And some of the neighbors described a woman looking like you ringing doorbells and asking questions before.’ she explained. She wanted you to take the hint and just admit, what she already knew for certain.

You remained silent, as you began fidgeting with your hands, looking down at the table. You were thinking. Maybe you wanted to come up with an excuse.

'Jeannie, please. Just tell me. I swear I won’t get mad and I’ll try to understand. I worry about you. Things are looking REALLY BAD right now and I want to keep you from getting into any more trouble. Please, tell me.’ she tried prodding an answer out of you, showing all the concern and worry she felt for you.

A deep sigh left your throat as your hands came up to bury your head in them.

'Okay. I was there yesterday because that’s where the woman I mentioned the last time, lives. I asked the neighbors to find out her name and apartment number and when I got close, there were these two guys, trying to remove me from the building. They were pushy and rude, so I fought them.’ you said hastily, not giving her a chance to respond.

'You gotta understand, I don’t usually get involved in fights or anything like that, I just wanted to question her and I was not the stalker they talked about, so I tried arguing with them, when they wanted me out.’ you explained.

'Wait, what stalker?’

'They said they were hired to keep anyone not green-lighted by her away, to protect her from a stalker that had bothered her recently. I don’t understand either, but that’s how I got into a fight with them and catched this bruise.’ you said, motioning up to your cheek.

'Jeannie, that’s not just a bruise. Your head is injured and I shouldn’t have to tell you how dangerous that is with your pre-existing head-injury from the accident.’ she scolded you, slightly annoyed by your careless roughhousing.

'I KNOW! It’s not my fault! One of them pushed me and I passed out. I have no idea what happened then.’ you mumbled angrily.

'Good Lord…’ she said with an exhausted sigh.

'That sounds horrible and I’m sorry you had to go through that, but I’m afraid, that won’t be enough, Jeannie. I wanna make this very clear, if this is all you can disclose about the situation, the police will probably take you in as the main-suspect.’ she admitted worriedly, shaking her head.

By now you were restless and bothering your lower lip with your teeth. She could tell your legs were shaking from anxiety and she just knew, there was more to it than what you had said. Your eyes were flying over the table in random patterns from all the thinking.

'Fine, okay. C-Can you please listen all to the end, before you comment on anything I will tell you now?’ you asked nervously.

'Of course, I’ll try not to interrupt.’ she said, hanging on your lips, while her heart was up in her throat. She expected the worst.

'And try to be open, okay?’ you asked, resulting in her nodding. What else could she do? This was gonna be more horrible than she expected, that was for sure.

'They manhandled me down to the entrance hallway and one of them held me at my wrists and slapped me across the face. Then I heard someone yell and when I looked in the direction, I saw the Joker. He shot the guy that held me and then the other guy grabbed me and held me in front of him. He probably didn’t want to get shot, that coward… Anyways, after he shot a few times, he pushed me away and I must have hit something with my head, I can’t remember. Then I fell unconscious.’ you explained hastily, stuttering from being so obviously nervous.

It took her a moment to process what you had told her.

So the Joker was involved.

'Please, Mrs Parker. I didn’t do anything to them! You gotta believe me. It’s not like I chose for that to happen…’

'I know, Jeannie. I know… What happened then? How did you get home?’ she asked, curious as to what the Joker did with her while being unconscious. She tried desperately not to let the panic get to her before she knew anything for sure.

'I woke up at his place… Uh, and although he was hurt pretty badly, he had patched up my head and then… In the end I was able to leave. I’m okay as far as I can tell.’ you stated, getting more nervous by the second.

'He just let you leave? What did you two talk about?’ she asked. He wouldn’t have let you leave just like that. You were his wife. And he was a criminal and a lunatic.

'Ugh… I don’t think that really stuck, it feels all fuzzy, maybe because I hit my head so hard. Uhm, actually we didn’t talk at all. When I was able to walk, I made a run for it. He sat in the kitchen with a heavily bleeding leg, so he couldn’t follow me. I got away and went home. That was all.’ you said, much calmer now than before.

'Really? He didn’t say anything to you?’ she questioned, needing to be absolutely sure about it.

'No, nothing. Well, nothing new. He was calling after me with that weird name again. But otherwise, nothing.’ She kept staring at you, looking for any sign of a lie on your face. 'We didn’t exactly have the time to talk a lot, since I was making a run for it, I guess.’ you said slowly, looking at her, as if she was stupid.

Sighing, she stood up and straightened herself.

Okay. This was bad, but manageable. At least her client was innocent and that was all that mattered to her. It seemed reasonable enough, that the clown wouldn’t be able to follow her with an injured leg, so she accepted your story without further questions.

'Alright. I’m glad you got out of it. I really am. This could have went a whole lot worse and you were lucky, I hope you know that. I want you to repeat this story to Officer Chase as detailed as possible. After that we’re good.’ she said, her voice exhausted and thin.

'I hope it won’t take too long, I wanna get some rest before heading out this evening.’ you said, going to the kitchen to make some coffee.

'Going out? Jeannie, are you serious? You should be in bed, resting.’ she said with a frown on her lips. You were by far one of the most difficult clients she had had so far in all of her career.

'Don’t worry. Benji, the co-worker I mentioned last time we talked, invited me to go out for a few drinks. And by now I feel like I could really use some.’ you said in a sarcastic tone.

'Oh. I’m happy to hear that! Well, then I hope he takes good care of you later, I’m sure it’ll be nice.’ she encouraged you, being somewhat relieved to hear you made an effort to build a new relationship. Everything was better than your occupation with your past life and investigating Fleck.

With a few steps, she reached the front door and let Officer Chase inside, so the two of you could sit down at the table for the questioning, while she stood behind you, taking the supporting place on your side.

This was her job after all and she would stay with you through any problems that would come your way in the future.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You try to pull yourself together and go to the night-out with your co-workers, while Arthur receives news to be worried about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I finally did it. I hope y'all aren't mad because of the delay, I kinda took me a while. I'll try to write regularly from now on, because I wanna bring this story to a worthy ending, in case any of you were worried I'd abandon it in the middle of things. Just no. :D Sending love and I hope you have a great time reading!

***// READER’S POV //***

When Mrs Parker and Officer Chase left, it was already late afternoon.

Sighing deeply you closed the door, walked back to the kitchen table and chugged down the rest of your already cold coffee. You felt completely drained, but hot anger was boiling beneath your skin nonetheless.

Somehow it looked like everyone around you had a say in your life, except from you. You were controlled, influenced and questioned about each and every thing you thought or did and it almost felt like choking on air.

There was no space for yourself and it was suffocating. It felt like nobody truly cared about you and how you felt.

Your apartment suddenly felt like a prison and you really needed to take a breath. But not here. There was no better time for the night out with Benji and the others. All you could think about was forgetting all the shit for one night.

Ironic, wasn’t it? You wanted to forget. You of all people. Although you had already forgotten everything about your life before the accident. Maybe your mind did you a favor with not remembering anything after all…

Well. It was possible that you remembered SOMETHING. Or else that dream last night wouldn’t have happened. Or else you wouldn’t have kissed Joker in his hideout.

You could still fell his hot lips on yours, the taste of his red painted smile lingering… Absent-mindedly, the tips of your fingers were brushing against your own lips, haunting the ghostly feeling with a sigh.

Why did you do that? And why did he tell you all those things? Why was he so emotional? And why were you? All those unanswered questions made a throbbing headache build up behind your temples.

The content of the nightmare stuck with you relentlessly… Especially the picture of him looking at you with those loving and warm, startlingly beautiful green eyes… It had burned itself into your eyelids and every time you closed your eyes, it came back vividly.

You had to support yourself on one of the kitchen chairs, as you felt a heart-wrenching pain in your chest that took your breath away. You didn’t even know what your body was doing anymore, all the weird reactions and sensations you felt lately, were slowly but surely overwhelming you.

Gasping, with one hand on your chest, you stumbled to the shower, trying desperately to keep your burning eyes open. Carefully, you took off the bandage around your head, before you stepped in and as soon as the hot water met your skin, it once again reminded you starkly of the dream…

Of the blood that had been splattered across your face when it ended. You were tempted to say, you never had such a bad dream your whole life, but you couldn’t know for sure…

You could still see the slight sheen of cold metal in his hand, pointed at his temple. Why did he do that? How had everything turned out so terrifying, while it began so… differently? You didn’t know. All you knew was that the feeling of losing him made you feel sick to your stomach.

Stepping out of the shower you didn’t even bother to dry yourself with a towel. Instead you opened the window, needing the cold chill on your wet skin to ground yourself and to be able to concentrate on the task at hand.

Rummaging through the utensils in your bathroom, you found the blow-dryer and the few makeup products you had bought some time ago and placed them hurriedly on the sink.

Supporting yourself on the cool porcelain, you stared down at your hands, which were shaking slightly, while your head throbbed and little drops of water ran over your skin.

Silence. Preparing yourself for what you were about to see, you counted to ten.

At twelve you looked up, inspecting yourself in the mirror.

And you felt foreign.

Recognizing yourself was a hard task. The dark shadows framing your eyes were remarkable, the eyes themselves still red from the breakdown you had when you woke up.

But that was nothing compared to the dark purple bruise along your cheek and the wound on your head. At least it had not started bleeding again after the shower.

You knew you couldn’t hide the injuries completely. No loss. It wasn’t uncommon for people in Gotham to wear bruises outside in public, even people in business suits have been seen with split lips and the like before.

But you thought covering it at least a little would make you feel more comfortable and maybe, just maybe, Benji and your other co-workers wouldn’t try to dig up the story behind your injuries in great detail.

So you got yourself ready, even putting on some lipstick. You may have felt like like shit, but you didn’t have to look like it. You gave it your best shot and after an hour or so, the bruise was neatly covered with makeup, almost completely invisible now, and the gash on your head was skillfully hidden by your styled hair.

Somehow getting ready like this calmed you down. It felt good, familiar almost. And you noticed, you were pretty advanced in doing this, using the brushes in feather-light, skilled strokes and applying the makeup effortlessly.

The finished result on your face was looking nothing short but perfect. Your skin looked and felt absolutely flawless, seamlessly blended eye shadow and meticulously applied mascara and eyeliner accentuating your eyes in the most alluring way, rosy cheeks and perfect red lips completing the look. You wore your hair in a simple but elegant style, leaving a few strands of hair to frame your face delicately.

Taking in your finished look, you noticed the colour on your lips reminded you of him. Of the Joker. Maybe you hadn’t picked it randomly. You had more casual ones there. But you didn’t want to look insignificant tonight. You wanted to feel free to do and be whatever you wanted to be, just for tonight.

A dull ache spread from your stomach up to your throat as you thought of his face once again. Wearing the colour made you feel like what had happened the day before, wasn’t just a dream. It all seemed so unreal…

Pulling yourself together, you shook your head violently to come back to reality and took a deep breath.

The thoughts in your mind slowly calmed down like the sea after a storm. You could think more clearly now. So you chose an outfit matching your style, going for a short black dress with long sleeves, showing the smooth skin of your legs and black high heels that were a lot more comfortable than they looked.

You wouldn’t remember, but you thought you had never felt this confident in your whole life. You felt dangerous. Fitting that mood, you decided to take one of your smaller kitchen knives with you, slipping it into your purse. You were tired of people jumping you or following you around.

In your head, the whole world had turned upside down.

You weren’t about being nice anymore. And maybe it had to do with the fact that you had come dangerously close to one of the most notorious men in this city and he had purred in your ear and tasted your lips.

A shudder ran down your spine at the thought.

Grabbing the purse and putting on your beige coat, you headed out to meet everyone at the bar down-town without letting any more thoughts about Arthur Fleck seep into your mind.

***// ARTHUR’S POV //***

‘Do you think you can fix it?’ Arthur asked the man, his voice flat and apologetic, while he inspected the fabric of the suit on the counter.

The man laughed roughly until he almost choked. The sound was loud enough to make Arthur flinch as the sharp sound met his ears and worsened the building ache in his head.

'Of course I can! You don’t have to look so guilty about it, really.’ Hank tried to reassure him. Arthur did feel kind of bad about it and if he was honest with himself, he was even a little bit scared to bring him the damaged suit, full of blood stains.

Although that was exactly what Hank had told him to do when he received his new sets of suits.

'I just don’t wanna be a bother.’ Arthur said, clearing his throat awkwardly and trying to compose himself. Leaning on the counter casually, his eyes roamed the shelves of the shop, while Hank disappeared to the room behind the counter.

Hank had closed the window blinds as soon as Arthur arrived at his shop. A safety measure he had said. It was already late evening and Hank’s shop was closed by now anyways.

His eyes stopped at a large mirror, standing at one of the carved wooden walls to the side. Slowly straightening himself, he walked over to take a look at his form.

His look was almost complete, his clown makeup and the green hair perfectly in place while one of the non-damaged suits was accentuating his figure.

The only thing that didn’t match was his smile. He wasn’t smiling. He should be smiling, he thought. Without it, the look didn’t feel complete.

Complete. As if he had worn this outfit and the makeup a hundred times.

Was he not allowed to frown? He didn’t know anymore. Staring at himself blankly, he noticed that he felt lost. He didn’t know who he was anymore.

Arthur, failed comedian?

Mr Fleck, a patient in Arkham State Hospital?

Joker, a crazy murderer?

He was so so confused and the floor beneath his feet felt like it was slowly disappearing.

Not two seconds later his injured leg gave away and he stumbled and almost fell, hadn’t Hank catched him midst falling, holding him up by the arms.

'Woah, Arthur! Are you alright?!’ Hank asked hurriedly, helping him regaining his stance.

'Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.’ he assured Hank in a raspy voice, although the pain in his leg made him feel dizzy already. He just hoped the bandages he had reapplied after taking a shower earlier would do their job, so his blood would not ruin another suit.

Although the colour of his blood would blend in with the red of the suit seamlessly, so why bother? The thought made his lips curl almost invisibly. His humor was getting darker by the day, he noticed with a scoff.

Arthur motioned to a chair not far away and Hank helped him getting there, while being careful to take all the weight off the injured leg.

'Shot wound, right? The pants you gave me looked the part. Did you bandage it properly?’ he asked him.

'Sufficiently.’ Arthur murmured with a strained voice.

'Good thing the suit is red, right?’ Hank added amusedly, which made Arthur chuckle in delight. Maybe he was not the only one with a crooked sense of humor.

Suddenly, the phone behind the counter was ringing and Hank left Arthur to himself for a moment. After a few seconds, he was already drifting away into nostalgic nonsense again, as he noticed how worried Hanks voice sounded.

'Wait- slow down! I can’t understand a word you say, boy!’ Hank bellowed. Arthur looked at him, an eyebrow lifted in confusion and watching him closely.

'Yeah, yeah. Actually he’s here with me. Uhm- yeah okay. I’ll get him, give me a second.’ he said tight-clipped, leaving the speaker on the counter, his gaze lingering on Arthur and meeting his eyes, looking confused.

'What’s the matter? Who is it?’ Arthur questioned him, as Hank was already making space for him.

'It’s Johnny. Seems to be urgent. Good thing you were already here.’ he mumbled, offering Arthur a helping hand to get up. Arthur ignored it absentmindedly as he shot up and limped over to the counter, picking up the speaker while being careful not to drop it with shaking hands.

What could be so important? Johnny always contacted him by either coming over to his hideout, leaving Hank a message or waiting until Arthur went to his shop himself.

This was unusual and besides the incident at his old apartment complex, he had rarely seen Johnny stressed or otherwise bothered. He was always rather cheerful.

'Yeah?’ he mumbled into the speaker, being irritated by all the background noise he heard through the phone.

'Arthur! I- uhm. I’ll get straight to the point. It’s her, you have to come here!’ he said, his voice almost shouting to be heard over all the noise.

'What?’ Arthur thought he had misheard the younger man. That couldn’t be, it was just wishful thinking.

'Oh man, IT’S HER, your lady! The one from yesterday! You mentioned on the ride to your place- EXCUSE ME!!’ he shouted in between, obviously addressed at someone else nearby. 'You said you didn’t know where she lives and how to contact her. I found her, so I thought I’d-’ Arthur cut him off mid-sentence.

'Where?’ he demanded, his heartbeat already picking up.

'I’m at a bar down-town. Ugh- what’s the damn name again?? The one next to the costume shop on the main street!’ he described, somewhat out of breath.

Arthur knew where that was. He had bought his Carnival costume there.

But he wouldn’t be able to manage walking that far with the shot wound on his thigh. Not to mention how much attention he would pull with his attire on the main street. The cops would be on him in minutes.

'Hank. Do you have a car?’ he asked, pulling the speaker from his face.

'Yeah, sure.’ he answered somewhat bewildered.

'Could you drop me off down-town?’ Arthur requested, not even looking at him as his thoughts started to race.

'I’ll go and get my jacket!’ Hank called out, already leaving the room in a hurry.

Arthur pressed the speaker against his ear once again, only to hear Johnny calling his name in a frenzy.

'And?’ Arthur uttered bemusedly.

'Man. Hurry up. She’s not alone-’

That was all Arthur needed to hear, as he slammed the speaker down on the phone and practically ran after Hank, the pain in his leg momentarily forgotten as all the implications of what Johnny had said morphed into every possible scenario, playing out in his head.

***// JOHNNY’S POV //***

All the people in this God forsaken city had become witness to a horrible awakening, the night the Joker had killed Murray Franklin on live TV.

But somehow, for Johnny it felt like a thick mist had been lifted off of this city and finally the people have no choice but to open their eyes and see what’s happening around them.

All his life he has been stepped upon. He had been mediocre in school and is now hardly able to make a living with the shop his father had left him after his death. Business in this city was hard. Even harder for those, that have never been taken seriously.

He was full of spite and anger and resentment for those that looked down on him. He may have looked happy and cheerful to the outside world, but that was because he had learned not to show any weak spots. He had learned not to show how people affected him or how much they hurt him.

He was never unkind though. He always helped people in need, even if he had to put himself in trouble. It was not an easy way to live, but definitely worth it for him.

The day he had seen Arthur on Television, everything had changed. And he had never admired a man that much, no matter how drastic and horrific his actions had been.

Maybe his father. But that man never wasted a thought on him in return. Instead he had favoured his older brother, who was always the golden boy of the family.

In comparison to his brother, Johnny never stood a chance. He had tried countless times, but he was never enough. He was too honest, too emotional and not successful enough.

And his father even wanted his oldest son to take over his business, which he declined in a ridiculously arrogant manner, so Johnny took it instead.

He tried to shake himself of the old memories, it was no use to think about them anymore, with what he had done just now.

It may have been due to his young age and a good portion of naivety, but Johnny slowly began realizing, that the rebellion in the city, all the death and the guns was no game to play in his free time.

It was like a beast that needed to be fed. A war that costed people’s lifes. It was no crusade for revenge, it was not about his brother’s arrogance or his father’s ignorance or his own hurt.

It was about the good things. The good things in life that are worth fighting for. The people we can’t live without and the future we always wanted.

Things became real very fast, when the Joker himself, the man he admired so much, had sat in the backseat of his car, bleeding all over the place. A lifeless woman laying on his lap, while the clown shed tears of joy in the face of love. She was all he had. His everything. Johnny could see it.

He wished that someday, he would have a reason like that to fight. And until then, he would follow that man wherever he intended to go.

He would be his ally. Through the bad stuff and the worst stuff. It was the first time in his life he was really committed to something.

Even if that meant to endanger his own flesh and blood, he thought, hanging up the phone, as his gaze was wandering over the crowded bar to a small table in a shady corner, where his brother, Benjamin, sat in front of the Joker’s love.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!😘  
> Please leave a comment, to let me know what you think about the fic!


End file.
